#i feel shitty because i was saving all that money up for a bed frame but oh well i guess i want to keep my teeth more | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lubdubsworld · 3 years ago

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The Devil’s Own.

Jungkook x OC

Mafia Au!

Warnings : Non-Con ! Manipulation, Degradation, Shitty hero with no redeeming Qualities you have been warned. ( i mean he does get better but not much.)

Summary : Just Mob Boss Jungkook doing mob boss things.

Chapter 1

“ Sign it. ”

I glared at him, feeling sick at the tone. The entitlement.

“No.” I said sharply and I could feel his anger swelling, morphing into something dangerous and deadly but I couldn’t care anymore. I was tired. Exhausted. This cat and mouse game had gone on , long enough. It wasn’t an even playing field, in any sense of the qword.

If today was the day I died, so be it. I would accept it. I would even welcome it.

I was done.

He had everything : an empire at his beck and call , enough money to pave the streets of Seoul in gold and an army of loyal associates behind him. His face was plastered on Billboards across the country , the President posted pictures of him on his fucking SNS and delegates from other countries had to wait weeks , just to get an appointment with the youngest billionaire South Korea had ever seen.

And yet none of those white collared dignitaries saw this side of him. The dirty, violent ruthless man who had more blood on his hands than anyone else in the country. My father’s. My brothers’.

Jeon Jungkook was both the most revered business man in the country and the undisputed king of Seoul’s criminal underbelly.

“You defiance only makes me want to break you in other ways Elena.” He said warningly and I felt my throat go dry. I stared at him, wondering how someone could look so expensively gorgeous and yet, like a hardened criminal.

The expensive silk shirt, the fitted slacks and the handmade shoes ought to clash with the dark ink that covered his entire arm and neck, the piercing on his eyebrow and the glint of metal on his tongue but it didn’t.

It just all came together to make him the most attractive man in existence.

I took a deep breath. Perhaps begging was the way to go?

“ You have my father’s company. You have my brother’s Hospital and you have the family mansion. It’s all yours. This bakery belongs to my mother. It’s all I have left of her. My sister in law is pregnant , due any day. She needs a place to stay and I don’t… I don’t have money to rent anywhere else.” I said desperately, thinking of the paltry wage I earned waiting tables. I could barely afford food for myself let alone for Jisoo and the baby on the way.

The bakery was abandoned but it had a roof. The furniture was crumbling but I could fix that. If I didn’t have to worry about rent, I could save up enough to make it livable. At least till I got a better job.

“I’ve offered you solutions for all of that.” He reminded me softly, eyes trained unblinkingly on me and I stared at him.

“I’m not going to be your whore.” I felt my voice shake.

He grimaced.

“You aren’t qualified to be my whore. And I don’t need one either. Whores are not my thing. I have a beautiful fiancée, don’t you remember? ” He grinned. I felt my heart ache because that fiancée was once my best friend. The only person I had trusted with my entire life. Lisa had betrayed my trust, had spied on my father’s operations and brought him down and I had the horrible, horrible inkling that she had also had something to do with my father and brother’s untimely death in a car crash.

But I couldn’t think about that. Every time I thought about her my heart broke and head spun, and I had to be at my maximum mental capacity if I was going to deal with her heartless fiancée.

“ If you ask me, you’re not fit for anything more than a back alley blowjob for a couple bucks. But Hoseok thinks you have potential. Join his agency, there are a lot of very wealthy men who have a bone to pick with your father. He made a shit ton of enemies. Most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of you. ”

His words felt like worms crawling all over my skin and I could feel the nausea churn inside me.

“I’m not signing the bakery over. You can call the creditors. I still have another year and half to pay the one remaining loan and they won’t come for me till then.” I felt my head begin to throb and Jungkook sighed.

“Suit yourself.” He stood up and I stayed still, watching his tall frame tower over me with ease. He gave me a small bitter smile. It was fraught with hatred and I stared back at him, knowing the emotion was probably mirrored in my gaze.

“Beautiful Elena. As pretty as the day you left me at the altar.” He smirked and I flushed.

“Your vengeance is petty and pointless and unfair…just like you.” I said angrily, frustration building u at his words. The way he talked about our broken engagement like it even mattered. It hadn’t even been real. We had hardly spoken and my father had called the wedding off at the last moment. But apparently, that had been the last straw for the Jeons. They had come after my father’s entire existence with a single minded intent to destroy him and they had succeeded. The man was dead . His two sons were dead.

But apparently it wasn’t enough.

Jungkook stared at me, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Maybe. But it’s also deadly and potent. And it won’t rest until I see you reduced to nothing but a whore on the streets, spreading your legs for every man who can afford you.” He laughed. “ Saying no is a luxury , one that you’ll soon be unable to afford.”

I refused to be cowed, refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words scared me. Because they did.

They scared me so damn much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This bed is so lumpy… I’m so sorry, unnie..” I said apologetically but Jisoo shook her head quickly, palms cupping my face as I held her elbows, gently lowering her to the bed. I stared at her feet, feeling my heart race at how swollen they looked. That can’t be normal, a voice whispered and

I didn’t know if that was normal and I had no money to take her to a clinic. The social center we usually went to only allowed three visits per month and we had used it all up. I wanted to throw caution to the wind and spend the thirty thousand won it would take but that would mean no groceries for a week and surely bread and eggs wouldn’t stretch that long, even if I could sneak meals in the restaurant for myself.

“I’ve been feeling a little dizzy…I’ll just sleep.” She said tiredly. She was thirty six weeks along, not due for another four weeks but her blood pressure was erratic. Her lab numbers were oscillating and there had been talks of an emergency c section. Even with insurance it was way more than I could afford but I had my own jewelry, a few expensive trinkets from my teenage years. I’d been obsessed with diamonds and my father had indulged me and I had a pair of earrings left. I’d already sold the rest but this would take care of the medical bills for the birth itself.

“My shift starts in ten minutes. I have to go. Give me a call if you need anything…” I said softly and I saw the familiar blank and listless look come into her eyes. I knew she was depressed, dealing with grief and pregnancy and loss but there was nothing I could do for her. Nothing. I had applied for a bunch of other jobs but they never wrote back. It wasn’t easy, being rejected over and over again but it wasn’t like there was much else I could do. And the truth was I was resigned to this, accepted that at some point I would have to take more loans and be stuck in an endless cycle of debt for the rest of my life.

And I had made peace with that.

There was no future for me. And I was okay with just surviving.

If only Jungkook would let me.

Apparently, watching me wipe down greasy tables and mop up floors and toilets trying to earn just enough to get a few square meals didn’t soothe his anger. It only fueled it. Jungkook couldn’t fathom that it had been six whole months of me on the streets of Seoul and I wasn’t completely destitute yet. I’d kept myself and my sister in law alive, safe and it pissed him off.

He wanted to see me broken and on my knees, begging him for help. The idea of me somehow surviving despite him taking everything away from me, it just didn’t sit well with him.

I couldn’t afford to have him as an enemy so all I could really hope was that one day he would wake up and give up. One day he would just wake up and decide that I wasn’t worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I walked into my shift and noticed a familiar pair of high heeled Louboutins , completely out of place in my seedy place of employment, I knew I was in trouble. Lisa sat against one of the booths and her gaze was fixated on the door which meant she was waiting for someone. And when her eyes narrowed at the sight of me, I just knew I was the someone.

She wants to get me fired.

It wasn’t rocket science and I felt the urge to turn right back around and leave. But I tamped down on it. I could get through this. I would get through this. Lisa and Jungkook got off on invoking reactions and I wouldn’t give them that.

Except it wasn’t that easy.

It was a nightmare, watching her demand and reject and walk all over me but the sleeplessness from the past few days made spacing out easier and I just stared away at the wall as she yelled and complained and made a scene.

“You’ve stopped fighting? Finally giving up? Good…” She hissed when the manager apologized to her and told me to meet him after my shift and I felt myself tremble in indignation.

“I won’t fight you or Jungkook, you and I both know I can’t afford to.” I said quietly and she went still, something flashing in her eyes for a second. It was gone before I could fully process it but it had been there. Guilt.

Lisa wasn’t a terrible human. She had been a dear friend. We had grown up together and she had even hugged and teased me when I’d been betrothed to Jungkook, all those years ago. I had been twenty back then, naïve and spoiled. While Jungkook had taken my father’s entire legacy apart, piece by piece, Lisa had been nothing more than a pawn. I remembered all the times I had let her home, how she would disappear for lengths of time.

Planting bugs all over the house. All over his office. Jungkook had been smart. Someone like Lisa, so fascinated by thr wealth she had grown up around would naturally jump at the idea of more. It wasn’t greed. It was human nature. And with her help he had destroyed everything my father had built over decades.

I shuddered. My father hadn’t been a good man. He had been greedy, yes. But he hadn’t deserved to die. And Jungkook would have to pay for that sin, someday.

“There’s a job waiting for you in Hoseok’s club.” She smiled cruelly , “ you don’t need this one.”

“The fact that you want to take it away from me, tells me that maybe there’s nothing left in you save.” I said blankly and she turned her nose up at me.

“I have Jungkook. I don’t need to be saved.”

I shook my head. She was so naïve. Men like Jungkook cared for nothing but themselves. But I wondered if women like her didn’t care for anything but the money that came with being his. Money was precious, I thought bitterly. I’d never realized how privileged I had been until I’d had it all ripped away.

“He’s the one you need saving from. And one day you’ll realize that.” I shrugged, not in the mood to offer her anymore life advice. If she was alright with being a trophy wife in exchange for a few pretty shoes that was her prerogative.

Before she could reply, my phone rang.

“Hello?” I asked nervously and I felt my heart drop to my knees when I heard who it was.

I turned on my heel rushing inside and my manager gave me a look of surprise.

“ My sister..she’s… she’s sick. I need to go.” I said desperately and his eyes narrowed. It was the worst timing. He was already annoyed because of Lisa and I stared in disbelief as he quickly shook his head.

“No. I’m sorry Elena…I just can’t let you leave like that…” He said sharply.

It was so unfair.

“I haven’t taken a single day off in five months…” I said desperately..” Please, she’s pregnant..She needs me, she-“

“If you leave, you won’t have a job to come back to. I can’t do this.. First you make trouble with a customer and now you just want to walk out in the middle of your shift without any notice…”

“Fine. Fire me.” I snapped, because I’d just had enough of it. I was exhausted, and tomorrow I’d go knocking on some other tore and I’d get a job. I lived in Seoul …How hard could it be? For now, I had to get to Jisoo. I had to get the hospital and things would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t okay.

“I… You want to keep her in? So soon?”

“Her blood pressure is through the roof. There are signs of severe pre eclampsia and we want to get her started on a magnesium drip. Steroids to help the baby’s lungs incase we need to deliver…”

“Deliver..?” I couldn’t breathe.

“Yes, I’m sorry…. If her blood pressure doesn’t come down we’re going to have to deliver.”

I nodded, glancing at the bed where Jisoo was sleeping, her face swollen and I knew that she was sick. Really sick. She looked pallid and ill.

“Is she going to be okay?” I asked hoarsely.

“We’re going to do what we can… But I’m going to be honest, we’re looking at a c section, a lot of meds and also some time in the NICU for the baby…. Can you afford it? Your sister’s insurance only covers 80% .”

I blinked, completely thrown. White noise rushed through my ears, a dull throb settling right at the base of my skull and beginning to spread all the way to my arms and back. It was panic mixed wth anxiety mixed with despair and I couldn’t quite cope. The earrings wouldn’t cover all that.

“Oh… Oh..yeah.” I said dully, “ Of course I can… Let me just…. Can I have a moment? There’s somethings I need to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I carefully slipped the cash into the envelope, swallowing as I sat on the pavement. I’d got another call from the hospital, they had administered the steroids but Jisoo’s condition seemed to be worsening. They wanted to try inducing labour soon but they wanted me to pay for the room and for the medicines, and apparently, the earrings weren’t as valuable as I thought they were.

I fought nausea wrapping arms around myself as I stared at the cars whizzing by, the putrid city air clogging my lungs as I tried to come to terms with what was happening. Jisoo needed help. She was the only one left and she carried my brother’s son. I felt my throat clog when I thought of Daehwan. He had been a good guy. I had loved him. It wasn’t fair, what Jungkook had done to my family, I thought miserably .

And the only reason I wasn’t driven by vengeance or anger was because I was nothing like Jungkook. I hated him. I didn’t want him to live in my head, didn’t want to waste any part of myself on him , not even my anger. But it was hard when he wouldn’t let me breathe, always at my heels like a wolf : jaws snapping and blood thirsty eyes trained on me at all times. I couldn’t fathom his obsession sometimes. Surely, his hatred was uncalled for now? He’d taken everything from me anyway.

There was a dull roaring in my ears, one that said that this was not really a surprise. I’d thought about it way too often, had considered it countless times. Had even spent one absolutely horrifying evening scouring the streets of Seoul’s red light district just to see how sex workers behaved.

I’d also realized that in the face of desperation, dignity didn’t hold much value.

You are going to pay your debts on your back and on your knees.

The first time Jungkook had thrown it at my face, eyes glinting with glee, my stomach had rebelled so hard. I’d been absolutely infuriated, had thrown a vase at him. And it had been awful, watching him catch it out of the air with ease, his mocking laughter making my bones rattle as he shook his head, “ That’s how this ends, Elena. Mark my words.”

And it was pitiful , that he went through life so consumed with hatred and vindictive cruelty that he couldn’t leave me alone . He was pathetic. That’s how I saw him. A pathetic child who refused to stop tormenting the helpless ant on the floor although it was no match for his cruelty.

At some point Jungkook was going to win. And his idea of winning was seeing me stripped bare of the one thing that kept me alive : my freedom.

It had just happened sooner than I’d thought.

Because I knew what it would mean, to go to Hoseok. He would own me. Hoseok’s whores were all slaves, tangled in his web so badly that there was no hope of escape. He wasn’t cruel but he was smart. No one left the his ‘ agency’ once they went in. I would be lost, forever. And I couldn’t stomach it.

I stared at my knees, fists clenched on the fabric of my skirt. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the contacts. I considered it carefully. I had to do this on my terms. Had to make sure I retained some sort of control here.

And I knew just how to do it.

Hoseok picked up on the third ring.

“Hello.”

“I need help.” I croaked out.

The deep chuckle made my skin crawl.

“Elena Gong. What a wonderful, wonderful surprise. What can I do you for?” He drawled.

“Well sweetheart, I’m all out of charity so you’re going to have to make it worth my while.”

I took a deep breath.

“I’m a virgin.” I whispered.

The line went completely silent.

“What?” The amusement in his voice died.

“You heard me and I’ll let you cash in on it. I’ll let you auction it off…” I tamped down on the burning protest in my lung, the screaming inside my head that said it was horrifying, that I was considering this. “ But only if you keep my terms.”

“What makes you think you have a say in that.” He said sharply and I laughed.

“I belong to your world, Hoseok. Did you forget that we were friends, once.” I whispered and he didn’t reply.

Laughter, kindness, a big brother I could always count on, hobi oppa, nine year old me with my fingers curled around his wrist as we ran all around the gardens , a smile so wide that he could spread sunshine on the gloomiest days. Different from Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi and the others. Willing to include a ‘ girl’ in his playtime. Lisa and I the only girls, not even fazed watching as the rest of them wielded toy guns and mock interrogation scenes, pretending to kill and maim and torture because that was the world we were born into.

“We’re not friends, Elena. Let’s get that straight. The only part of you that holds any value to me is th part between your legs. So tell me, what do you want.”

“When was the last time you auctioned off someone’s virginity? You know how much money you can make off something like that. Not just from the sale itself but from the entire night. Your club… Your gaming hell…. All of it.”

“You expect me to believe you’re a virgin. At twenty seven.” He scoffed.

“Put the word out, everywhere. If you find one man who says he’s slept with me , I’ll back off.”

“That would require me to tarnish your family name. And you’re alright with that?”

I smiled biotterly.

“Isn’t that what you and your precious Jungkookie want? To see the last living Gong, be labeled as a whore and a slut.”

He didn’t reply.

“I’ll give you that. You can do it… You know that will only interest more people. As Jungkook so eloquently put it, most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of me.”

“What’s the catch. What do you want. ”

“2 billion won.” I said firmly “It will be one night. One night only and I want enough money to pay off every one of my father’s debts, to get me an apartment for my sister in law and to support her and her baby for a year at least.”

“Done.” He said without missing a beat and I went still. What must it be like, to throw around money like that without a care in the world. And it sickened me that Jungkook was probably ten times as rich as Hoseok , the money my father owed him and his associates not even pocket change in comparison to his gargantuan wealth and yet, he stayed on my heels, snapping his jaws like a dog with a bone.

“And Jungkook doesn’t get to watch.” I said softly, knowing exactly what Jungkook would get off on.

That made Hoseok laugh.

“You know him too well. I keep forgetting he was madly in love with you once.”

I resisted the urge to vomit. Jungkook didn’t know love. He knew ownership. He didn’t love me, he thought he owned me. That I was his to play with…. For the rest of his life. And when my father had denied him that, just like a toddler in a toy store being denied a shiny toy to break and trample on, he had thrown a temper tantrum.

Except his tantrums always ended in death and destruction.

“That’s the deal. He doesn’t turn up there to gloat.”

“He’s heading out to Switzerland for a week , two days from now.” Hoseok said evenly.

“Good then. My sister in law…she “ I swallowed. “ She’s in a hospital in Yongsan. I’ll send you the address.”

“I’ll take care of it. But I want you here tonight. I’m not going to drop a couple billion won on your head without making sure I’m getting my money’s worth. And I can’t have you changing your mind and bolting either. My reputation is on the line here. If I put out the word that I’m serving something so fucking delicious and then back out, they’re not going to want to buy Hobi’s wares anymore. You understand what I’m saying darling?” Hoseok drawled and I knew exactly what he was saying. If I agreed to this, it was blanket consent for him to whatever he wanted.

“I won’t back out. I can’t. But this is one night. One night with whichever bastard you choose and that’s it. I want out. I don’t want you or Jungkook hounding me again. Ever.” My voice shook as I dug my fingers into my knees.

“My men will be there in ten minutes. Sit tight, princess.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stared at Hoseok as he carefully poured me a finger of whiskey, neat. He gave me a smirk and I shrugged.

“you remember.” I said casually, throat itching because it had been way too long since I’d had quality alcohol. I missed the burn, the warmth , the numbness that followed.

“Of course I do. You could drink all of us under the table with little effort. It was spectacular.” He laughed and I leaned back against the couch, letting my head fall back.

“I was half certain that you would have a doctor around to make sure I’m a virgin.” I stared at him and he shrugged. “ Pointless. You’re twenty seven, you’ve probably had stuff up there anyway… Not like your hymen’s still going to be intact.”

I thought it was rather horrifying, that I didn’t feel nearly as mortified as I should. This was how Hoseok talked, matter of fact and open and that was why he was so popular. Anytime an important person came into the country, Hobi was the one who offered entertainment for the night. Hobi’s girls were always the prettiest, most well behaved and perfect. They were educated, knew what they were talking about and he didn’t force them into the life. They loved it, enjoyed it and it showed.

Not to say he was a saint.

Far from it.

Hoseok knew how to dine with kings in castles but also how to wrestle with swine in the gutter. The seedy brothels in Seoul’s back alleys were his as well, and he ruled his kingdom with an iron hand. The prostitutes there feared him, one look or word enough to silence any rebellion, any thought of escape.

He was called Hope. And yet somehow that was exactly what he denied the women under him. There was no hope here. There was only lust and power and money. You came to Hobi…. You never left .

I took the glass he offered, taking a small sip, savoring the taste.

“But you believe me. I wonder why.” I watched him closely and he scoffed.

“Between your father and Jungkook, no one ever really had the pluck to come anywhere near you did they?”

Undisputable.

I sighed, leaning back to stare at him.

“Do you think dying hurts?” I asked softly.

It was frightening, how his entire body went stiff, eyes wide and jaw dropping.

“Elena, what the fuck-“

“Its just a question. You’ve killed people. You’ve watched them die… how do you think they feel?” I asked , curious.

“None of them wanted to die. If that’s what you’re asking.” The look in his eyes made me nervous.

I stared at him and the question was obvious. None of them wanted to die, but do you?

I didn’t.

“I’m not thinking of killing myself , oppa. Stop looking so horrified.” I laughed. He shook his head.

“ Don’t joke about that. It’s not fucking funny.”

I sobered up, remembering with a jolt. Ah, of course.

“I’m sorry. I forgot.” I said quietly.

Hoseok’s little sister had killed herself when I was seventeen. She was a year older than me and her father had lost her in a wager to a seventy year old man, known for torturing his bedmates. She had heard the news, taken a deep breath and taken a deep dive off the seventeeth floor of the condo where she lived with her mother.

I’d been engaged to Jungkook by then. And I had almost wanted it. Jungkook wasn’t old at least… twenty one to my seventeen.

“Just so you know, he’s going to find out. And he’s not going to like it.”

I shrugged. Three years is a long time to be preyed upon and now my mind was resigned to a life of being hunted. Hoseok was right. Jungkook would find out and he wouldn’t like it.

Good.

“I don’t care what he does anymore. All I care is that Jisoo and the baby are left out of whatever plans he has…. If you promise me you’ll keep them safe , I’ll cooperate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a baby boy.

I stared, fingers itching to hold the baby but it was impossible, the little one whisked away to the NICU right after with respiratory distress and Jisoo had gone into a seizure, eyes rolling back into her eyes.

She as alright now, resting in a VIP room with the best care money could buy. Hoseok had asked me if I was happy with the arrangements, and if I would name the boy after him.

I stared at the room, large and breezy and filled with flowers and gifts, toys and baby stuff and I knew right then that I had sealed my fate. I was going to have to go through with this. I could imagine how much Jisoo would protest when she came to her senses. The only relief was that it would take her a few days to be good enough to fight or protest. But then this would all be over and done with.

Jungkook would leave this afternoon. His flight was at three.

I would reach the club at five. The patrons would arrive at seven.

One night, I reminded myself , staring at the gentle rise and fall of Jisoo’s chest as she slept, my fingers playing with the soft skin on her wrist. The IV line went through her veins and I watched the gentle drip of it.

One night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t know how auctions happened and while I’d been prepared for the worst kind of humiliation, Hoseok assured me that he wasn’t going to make me stand naked on some podium or something.

“Generally, I would do something like that simply for the flair of it but consider this a favor ….a respite because you were, as you said, once a friend.” He gave me an even smile and I could only nod in mute relief.

I was grateful. Beyond grateful.

And what was more, he hadn’t told anyone, who I was.

That stunned me. Because wasn’t that the selling point? The murderous, greedy mob rat Gong Hyo Suk’s only daughter forced to spread her legs for one lucky stranger? If Hoseok had cashed in on that he would have made a fortune. But he hadn’t. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Would , whoever it was be upset if he recognized me?

I was led to a bedroom, large and tastefully decorated with silky satin sheets and dark curtains and dim lighting that lit up parts of the room and left other parts plunged in darkness. Hoseok had told me to wear whatever I wanted and I realized with a pang that he really didn’t see this as some sort of transaction. He was trying to make it as easy as possible without making any decisions for me. Offering me choices and options and some illusion of being in control.

I didn’t have anything fancy so it was just a dress shirt that I borrowed from Hoseok. I’d left the underwear off, eager to merely get the whole thing over with. I felt a sudden overwhelming urge to laugh out loud.

If Jungkook were here he really would have lost his damn mind, simply because of how little this whole thing affected me. And that was it, really. He was always desperate for a reaction.

Earlier when this whole thing had started, I’d obliged him with that. I would scream, rant and yell….launch myself at him like a wildcat, scratching at him , fists flying and it was obscene, how much he seemed to enjoy that. He would press me up against walls and tables , fingers choking the breath out of my lung, just so he could see me struggle and push back.

He fed off from every negative reaction I offered him and it had taken me a long long time that the way to beat him was to become passive, unresponsive. I would go limp in his arms, stare at him blankly as he tried to manhandle me and that…that had pissed him off. Because that meant I wasn’t playing his game anymore.

If the prey wasn’t playing, the game wasn’t fun anymore. It was drab.

Boring.

And I knew that Jungkook kept raising the stakes, kept tightening the noose around my neck….just to bring that girl out again. The one that had wanted to put up a fight . The one that wanted to mouth off even with the muzzle of a gun pressed against her head. The one who would spit in his face in front of all his associates, even if it earned her a vicious strike of his hand across her face.

I shuddered. They weren’t memories I liked reliving.

Well, if that was who he wanted, I’d make sure he would never see her again.

The door opening made me jump and Hoseok came in , with a wide grin on his face.

“Baby…. Your guest for the night.” He said softly and I peered over his shoulders, my heart and mind grinding to a halt when I caught sight of what had to be the most breathtakingly beautiful man on the face of the planet.

I felt my heart begin to pound, fear taking over because this wasn’t okay. Not really. I was okay with old, creepy and disgusting , not able to get it up for more than ten minutes.

I wasn’t okay with someone who looked like they stepped right out of the latest issue of GQ.

Hoseok left quickly, closing the door behind him and the man stepped into the light, the brightness lighting up his perfect features even more. I felt my throat go dry, and fought the urge to get up and run. Growing up as the daughter of a mobster , I’d learned how to trust my instincts over appearances.

And right now, every single one of those instincts screamed at me that this man was absolutely dangerous.

“Well, you are beautiful. I’ll give you that. “ He said casually.

“Thank you.” I said stiltedly, watching as he tugged on his tie, pulling it off his neck deftly . Instead of tossing it aside , he wrapped it a bunch of times around his wrist over and over as he smiled at me.

“Don’t thank me yet. The only reason I like beautiful things is because of how easily they break.” He smiled. “ I haven’t been with a virgin in a while…. I miss the screams.”

And there it was the full blown panic that came with stark terror. I crawled back on the bed, staring as he moved closer and there was no mistaking the look on his face, the harsh grip of his hand on my ankle telling me that I was going to regret every one of the choices that led me here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hoseok wasn’t at the airport.” Jungkook observed casually, glancing at Yoongi as the latter finished cleaning his gun carefully, eyes fixed on his weapon with utmost concentration.

“He’s holding some sort of auction tonight. Some chick …” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook hummed. It was not the kind of thing he was interested in. Anonymous bids were often boring : actresses or female idols past their prime, desperate to make some money to survive. He had no interest in those but he was a little peeved that Hoseok hadn’t told him anything about it.

Hoseok was one of Jungkook’s most trusted friends. He was almost as powerfully rich as Jungkook and the only reason Jungkook reigned supreme was because Hoseok had no interest in challenging him for the throne. Hoseok was dangerous and cunning and loyal and Jungkook was grateful to have him on his side and he had hoped to see him before leaving. Just to ask him to keep an eye on Elena.

He grimaced, hating himself.

God, he couldn’t go two hours without thinking of her. It fucked with his head, the amount of space she took up inside him. Jungkook , for all his wealth and power, was driven solely by his need to prove himself. He wanted to be powerful and terrifying yes, but more than that , he wanted people to know.

He wanted people to look him in the eye and acknowledge him for what he was : the most dangerous man in the country. He liked seeing that fear, that worship, that admiration. He got off on it. He wanted it , craved it and for some reason he craved it more from her , than anyone else.

And instead of giving him what he wanted, instead of begging on her knees for mercy, instead of licking his shoes and begging for him to let her live….she ignored him. She looked at him with defiance and pride, her chin straight and her back unbending, her gaze locked right on him like she was his fucking equal….

And Jungkook, he’d taken a lot of insults. Taken more than his fair share of hits in life …..

But when she looked at him like that , like he was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe….

Fuck it drove him wild with fury.

It made him want to teach her a fucking lesson, to remind her that he owned her because he owned everything. To break her down, snuff out the flames of defiance that burned so bright in those ember eyes… Take her into his bed and brand her with his body. Till she was on the floor, on her knees covered in his spit and cum begging for mercy….

Because no one looked at Jeon Jungkook like that and lived to tell the tale..

“Seokjin’s here. Landed in Korea a couple of hours ago. ” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook smiled a bit at that. He loved his older brother, technically a step brother and growing up he had only saw him when he visited his mother in China. That meant a couple of months a year and now as adults, a bit more often because Seokjin loved Jungkook and liked to visit him often.

Seokjin was a celebrity trainer, working with actors and athletes and he did a good amount of modeling as well. He was rich, handsome and well liked and the only thing that gave away the Jeon blood in him was the fact that he was a sexual sadist.

The face of an angel with a devilish streak, he had a penchant for sadism and inflicting pain on his partners and while Jungkook didn’t particularly enjoy indulging him, he knew there were women who were into that and usually had them arranged for when Seokjin dropped by in Korea. His hyung’s visit seldom lasted more than a few weeks at a time and it was a pity that he would miss out one whole week of it .

But the issue in Switzerland was a little pressing and Jungkook had to be there in person to sort it out.

He leaned back against the seat, staring out of the window, sighing.

“An unsullied dove ….What the fuck is this shit..” Yoongi muttered and Jungkook turned, curious.

“What?”

“Hoseok’s been hyping up some new girl for the auction and Seokjin hyung’s bidding on her.”

Jungkook laughed at that.

“Jungkook…..” Yoongi’s voice is completely stunned, his eyes confused as he looks up at Jungkook.” Its Elena.”

Jungkook’s thought process came to a grinding halt.

There’s a sound between his ears, a dull rushing sound like the wind in a storm and he can’t quite comprehend what he just heard. Even Namjoon who had been buried in his laptop , looked up then, tugging an airpod out of his ear.

“Wait…did you say Elena?” His eyes were wide , lips parted in shock. Yoongi and Namjoon exchanged glances, no doubt bracing themselves for the explosion that was to follow.

Jungkook took a deep breath.

“Turn the fucking plane around.”

That jolted Namjoon out of his stunned stupor..

“Turn-? Jungkook what…. We’re on a fourteen hour flight-“ Namjoon began but the look on Jungkook’s face made him stop.

“DID I FUCKING STUTTER?”

Namjoon swore.

“Fucking hell… alright just calm the fuck down, Jesus…just put a fucking bullet in that girl’s head and spare us all the headache fuck…” He growled, unbuckling his seat belt and rushing to the cockpit and Yoongi groaned.

“ Let me guess you want me to get in touch with someone in Seoul and ask Hoseok to hold off on letting Seokjin near her…”

Jungkook glared at him.

“If you already know that why the fuck are you still here…” He growled and Yoongi gave him a look.

“Just tell her you’re in love with her and let us live, Jeon Jungkook.”

In love….. what the fuck….

He glared at Yoongi’s back, his asinine words making him madder. God he wanted to crush someone’s skull into dust with his bare hands.

And right now, in his head , that skull belonged to Jung fucking Hoseok.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What just happened?” I asked, frantic staring at the door as Hoseok’s men casually led a fuming Seokjin away while the man himself stared at me, looking pale as parchment.

“ Jungkook found out.” He said shortly and I felt my heart drop although I was half relieved because there had been something insane in Kim Seokjin’s gaze when he’d reached for me , a cruel glint of hunger that told me he would have hurt me really badly if Hoseok hadn’t barged into the room , frantic and worried.

He had given Seokjin a wide smile and then, “ I’m so sorry. We were waiting on her blood results and turns out she has a…. well, certain occupational disease that is very infectious.”

Seokjin’s mouth had dropped open even wider than mine.

“I thought she was a fucking virgin.” He had snapped, and I flinched at how cold and furious he had sounded.

But apparently there was a reason this whole thing had happened.

“What do you mean Jungkook knows? What does that mean?” I asked frantically, fear taking over.

“ He’s heading back here… He wants to see you.”

I felt my entire body go ice cold as I shook my head…

“No…fucking no bring Seokjin back here , he can fuck me that was the fucking deal, Hobi, please don’t../…”

“Elena , I’m so fucking sorry.. Seokjin…he’s fucked in the head…. He likes hurting his whores, likes making them bleed and he would have fucking destroyed you…”

I gaped at him horrified.

“What?!” I hissed shaking my head in disbelief.

“He’s Jungkook’ stepbrother. I’ve arranged whores for him before, I knew he was a little crazy but I’d never seen him before and I didn’t know he was the Kim Seokjin…fuck he outbid everyone and fucker looks like a fucking angel, how the fuck was I supposed to know he’s unhinged? Thankfully, I messaged Yoongi and …. Fuck… Listen… I know I paid for your sister’s surgery but you’re going to have to pay me back….”

I felt my body convulse in rebellion.

“I can’t.. You know I fucking can’t…”

“I can’t make an enemy out of Jungkook…. I can’t.” Hoseok shook his head. “ You can get out of here now if you want but I’d advise you to stay. If you run it’s only going to make Jungkook angrier.”

“WHAT DID I FUCKING DO TO HIM?!!!” I screamed, feeling my composure crumble into smithereens. “WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE WANT FROM ME?!!”

Hoseok flinched, stepping back and holding his hands up.

“Whether I want to or not, I answer to Jungkook. I shouldn’t have done this in the first place , I’m sorry Elena.” He shook his head and stepped back like the coward that he was and I wanted to hurt him. To shake him and ask him to fucking remember who I was. That I had nothing to do with my father’s sins . That I had been a fucking marionette in his hands, had wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“So much for being a friend…” I whispered.

His jaw tightened. But he didn’t look guilty. None of them ever did. It was like guilt didn’t exist in their world. They did what they wanted to whoever they wanted , whenever they wanted and they got away with it because that bastard’s word was law. What Jeon Jungkook wanted, he got.

“I’ll get your clothes sent in.”

I watched him leave, the door slamming shut behind him and sagged against the bed, staring at myself. What had just happened?

Was I born to endless misery and misfortune?

Couldn’t I catch a fucking break?

I’d agreed to sell myself hadn’t I? Would have even let Seokjin hurt me if that was what he wanted. Because it was one night. It was one night of this…whatever the hell this was and then freedom. That was the deal.

The door opened again and I stared as a young girl brought me a pile of my clothes neatly folded.

“Do you work here?” I said sharply.

She blinked before bowing her head.

“Yes, mistress.”

I scoffed.

“Don’t call me mistress , I’m here to get fucked, just like you. Tell me does Jungkook ever use the women here.” I demanded.

She looked trapped, glancing at the door, clearly wanting to run .

“Tell me.” I snapped and she flinched.

“I..uh..yes. Sometimes.” She said softly.

“Can you tell whoever fucks him next to kick him in the fucking balls?”

The girl bowed deeply and all but ran out and I sighed, feeling myself shaking. Jungkook was on the way here and I wanted to yell and scream and rave at him but I knew that was exactly what he wanted. I wanted to deny him the satisfaction …wanted to act all cool and composed in front of him but it was impossible…

Because I hadn’t realized just how tired I was of this whole thing, till right this moment, when the end had been in sight. I was supposed to get my two billion won pay off all the debt , give Jisoo the rest of the money and disappear. I was so tired, so tired of this life I’d gotten trapped into, slaving over for hours on end just to afford a couple of meals a day. No friends, no boyfriends, no hope of a future …..

The door banged open and I jumped, crawling back when I recognized the man who had just entered.

“Yoongi-“

“Jungkook wants to see you.” He ground out and I swallowed.

“I need to get dressed. Please just wait outside.” I said shakily.

And then the door opened further and a tall looming shadow stepped in familiar and vomit inducing.

Jungkook looked livid, piercing glinting through the dimply lit room and I stared at him. He was dressed in a tight black t shirt, he sleeves stretched thin over his biceps and the tattoos stark against his skin.

“Leave us.” He said softly and Yoongi moved away to the door leaving me alone with the devil himself. I cursed myself for not putting at least my panties on, I was naked underneath this shirt and although it was big it left nothing to the imagination.

Jungkook’s eyes raked over my form before resting on my face.

“You think you’re smart enough to outsmart me, Elena?” He whispered softly.

I swallowed.

“Send you brother back in. He can fuck me and I’ll pay you back.”

Jungkook hummed, stepping closer and grabbing my clothes from the bed, he grabbed the plain white bra and the pastel pink underwear and then to my complete and utter mortification he brought the clothing up to his face, breathing in .

“Fucking pervert!!!” I screamed, feeling the action like a physical touch and wanting to claw his eyes out and the smirk on his face told me that this was exactly what he wanted but I was too fucking gone to care.

“If you want me to be a whore, fine. I’ll be a whore. But on my terms…” I spat out and he shook his head, laughing.

“I don’t just want you to be a whore, Elena. I want everyone to know that you are one…” He dropped my clothes and moved closer, holding a hand out. “ Come here.”

I stared at the inked fingers, adorned with sterling silver rings and bracelets with the motifs of his gang. I shook my head.

“No. I’m not playing this game with you.” I turned my face away.

His hand shot out gripping my upper arm with enough strength to bruise and I screamed, agony shooting up my arm and shoulders as he dragged me off the bed and onto the floor. I landed hard, hips and elbows bruising from impact and I stared at him in disbelief.

“I’ve been to gentle with you. You’ve forgotten your fucking place.” He bent over and grabbed me by my hair, yanking me to my feet so hard that it felt like my scalp had been ripped away from my skull.

“Okay…okay…Okay Jungkook..just…!!” I said softly, flinching because my pain tolerance was almost zero and Jungkook’s grip was so hard that my eyes were beginning to water now. He let me go, grabbing my panties off the floor and tossing them at me.

“I’m going to count to five. Put those on and get out.”

He walked out of the door and I stumbled a little fumbling with the fabric before quickly, slipping my legs in and yanking it up to my waist. I made to put on something else but his voice came, loud and impatient.

“Get the fuck out here.”

I walked out of the door and he was standing there next to Hoseok. I couldn’t meet either of their gazes , hating how they had so much power over my life. I stared at the floor. It was tempting to yell at them and scream but that never led anywhere.

“ I’ve asked them to stop the payment on the Hospital bill. Seeing as Elena hasn’t kept her end of the bargain.”

I felt my breath hitch at that, willing down the tears as I glared at him.

“What do you want?” I snapped. “ Tell me who you want me to fuck…. I’ll do it. Let’s get this over with so you can go back to whatever sewer you fucking climbed out of. ….”

Hoseok’s breath caught like he couldn’t believe what I’d just said and the look in his eye was a warning but I was sick of this. Sick of them all.

Jungkook turned to Hoseok with a laugh.

“You see hyung? See why I can’t let her go? If I let her scot free, everyone’s going to think I’m a pushover….that any worthless bitch can talk to me any way she wants and get away with it….” He shook his head, staring at me with a glint in his eye. “ I’m not going to choose. They are. You think you can charm your way into Hoseok’s heart and get special treatment? You think you’re ready to be a whore, Elena? Let me show you how a real whore gets treated in Hoseok’s club.”

He gripped my wrist, yanking me behind him as he stalked off down the narrow corridor that opened up into the club. I let myself get dragged out into the club dismally aware of the fact that I was wearing nothing but Hoseok’s shirt. I could feel eyes on me but I kept mine on the back of Jungkook’s head as he dragged me all the way to the front. I knew what he was going to do and at this point I was just numb.

There was no point reasoning with the devil.

I glared at him as he pointed at the stage. “ Get up there.” He whispered harshly.

I stared back at him, not moving. I saw Jungkook’s jaw clench.

“Either you go up there by yourself, with your clothes on. Or I carry you up there, after stripping you naked. What’s it going to be? ”

I glared at him, pursing my lips before climbing up using the small stair in the side. I moved to the center, right in front of the stage lights, so the rest of the room would disappear. I had no wish to see any of the bastards in the room.

“I think all of you recognize this little beauty here, don’t you?” Jungkook’s voice was cheerful, friendly even and I bit my lips, fists clenched. “ Well, if you don’t let me tell you . This is Gong Hyo Suk’s daughter. Remember that bastard? He put a hit out on my father. Killed him and my mom on the night I was supposed to be marrying his fucking daughter. A daughter who later called off the wedding, because I was too poor now, to give her the life she deserved. ”

I felt the familiar ice cold guilt in my vein. I was seventeen, I wanted to scream. I was seventeen and all I did was say what my father asked me to say, do what my father asked me to do.

“ That was nine fucking years ago… and you know what I told myself…. I told myself, that a greedy little bitch like this, doesn’t deserve shit.” He laughed. “ If money’s what she values the most, then the only thing she deserves is to be treated like the whore she is.”

“Why don’t you guys tell me, how much money you’d be willing to spend, to fuck her? Come on, Hobi’s been treating you guys so well lets help him make some money tonight… be generous. ”

I could barely hear what they were calling out but when Jungkook climbed onto the stage next to me, I jumped. Moving back instinctively, I winced when brought a forearm around my throat nearly choking me as he dragged up against his body.

“90 million won….That’s a lot.” He grinned. “ Jihan hyung….. that was you right? You’re gonna pay 90 million won for her?”

I felt my heart race, it was a lot. More than enough for the Hospital Bills, would even leave extra to get a decent apartment somewhere... I grabbed his wrist as it pressed into my throat, trying to pull his hand off me but he just wrapped his free hand around my waist, wrapping his entire body around mine and chuckling into my hair.

Jungkook pressed his head against mine and I froze, hating the close contact.

“Okay…but since I’m feeling a bit left out here…Why don’t I pitch in… 500 Won.” Jungkook said loud and clear.

I froze. An eerie silence fell over the club, laughter stilling and the clink of glasses slowing down.

What.

I struggled to get away from his but his hold tightened.

“Anyone else?” He called out. “ Come on… Not even thousand? Surely you think this one here’s worth a thousand won? Aren’t you going to outbid me?”

No one responded of course they didn’t. Jungkook’s anger was palpable and no one was going to get on his wrong side …..

“Ahh… is that it then? Bid’s going to close for 500 won then…. Hear that baby?” He whispered against my ears and I swallowed. “ 90, million won to five hundred won in a few seconds… What does that tell you?”

“It tells me you’re a fucking psychopath in love with your own voice… Get off me.” I hissed.

“No. What it tells you is that only I get to decide how much that body of yours is worth, not you. . You don’t get to go sell your fucking body behind my back for two billion won and then pay off all your debts and ride off into the sunset, that is not how this works….”

I went limp in his arms fighting tears because he never played fair. Never.

“Hear that Hoseok-ah… I win her for the night for 500 won…fair and square…. Is that alright?” He called out into the darkness and I felt the first inkling of dread begin to seep in.

“No.. No… get off me.” I hissed and he laughed, dragging me off the stage with ease. I screamed, kicking out in disbelief.

Jungkook grinned at me, before grabbing both my arms and yanking them behind me, and I whimpered, unable to move as he easily pulled me along to the door that opened into the hallway. Behind us I heard Hoseok’s voice.

“Jungkook, don’t be impulsive. Think about whatever you’re going to do.”

I flinched at that, panic building.

“He’s not going to do anything. I’ll fucking kill him if he touches me , I-“

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch.” He shook me hard till my teeth rattled and I sobbed out.

“Jungkook…” Hoseok warned but he merely snarled.

“I know what I’m doing hyung, just…. Don’t disturb us. And make sure everyone here knows that she’s open for business.” It was loud enough to carry through the club and I felt humiliation burn my throat, acrid like acid.

I froze in disbelief.

“Jungkook …” Hoseok’s voice held a tone of reproach.

“ And tell them that her body is amazing. Tell them she spent the night with me , the best fuck I’ve ever had , mouth made for cock.”

I stared straight ahead as he pulled me all the way to the room we had left earlier and I tripped when he shoved me inside, landing on my hands and knees . I quickly rolled back around to land on my ass, crawling back as he slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside.

He stared down at me, mouth grim.

“You do owe me a wedding night. I was so ready to fuck your tight cunt, nine years ago… I think I’ve waited long enough yeah.”

I stared at him in disbelief. I knew exactly what he wanted me to do, to yell and scream and protest and fight so he could get off and forcing me…. Fucking psychopath.

I took a deep breath and nodded.

“If you pay for my sister in laws bills, and give me an apartment sure. “ I shrugged. “You’re not any different from any of the bastards here. I don’t give a damn which one of you idiots wants to rut into me like the absolute animal that you are…. I don’t care…” I said softly.

“you don’t? Really? You want me to tell you what your brother said when one of my men put a gun into his mouth…. He begged for his life…said he had a kid on the way….” Jungkook laughed, shaking his head. “I told him it was better than what his father did…. My sister was six months pregnant when his lieutenant gunned her down on the streets.”

I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself.

“Why are you telling me this…” I snapped.

“Because she didn’t deserve it did she, Elena? She didn’t fucking deserve to die like that , like a dog on the street when she had nothing to do with any of this…. She didn’t deserve it.” He growled, bending down and gripping my chin hard.

“Maybe she did deserve it.” I spat out. “ If I deserve to be here, maybe your sister deserved to die too. “

He snarled, hand flying to my hair and dragging me up off the floor in one sharp yank. I whimpered as he pushed me on the bed, before climbing on top of me. I felt like every bone in my body was about to snap in two, the weight of him unbearable on me.

“I won the bid tonight…. I won it fair and square… You signed the waiver didn’t you…that you agreed to the auction…I won and I’m going to fucking collect.” He growled, and I kicked out, trying to buck him off of my body.

“Get off me.” I hissed. “ I’m not letting you fuck me for 500 won.”

“How about for your Jisoo then?” He whispered and I went still.

“What?”

He chuckled, reaching down and I felt my pulse pound as he pulled his phone out, dialing quickly and turning on the speakers.

Yoongi’s voice made me go ice cold. Everyone knew what Yoongi did for Jungkook.

“Daehwan’s wife is in a hospital room in Yongsan. Hobi’s got the details. I think she’s served her purpose.”

“No!! JUNGKOOK NO!!” I screamed , thrashing so hard my head began to spin but he grunted pressing down into me harder.

“Are you serious? I’m not home yet… I can take care of it tonight.” Yoongi said, voice casual and I sobbed, shaking my head in sheer terror.

“Okay… I’ll behave.. I promise.. please just don’t…”

Jungkook hummed.

“Well, that was easy… Yoongi-yah… why don’t you stay on the phone yeah…. Going to get that wedding night I’m owed and if my baby doesn’t co operate you know what to do, yeah?”

I bit my lips, glaring into the sheets as he gripped my waist, pulling me up.

“Ass up like the bitch that you are, baby.” He whispered and I felt my entire body shudder in disgust. It was worse because I hadn’t done this before. Didn’t know what to expect. But I couldn’t let him know that. If Jungkook knew that I was a virgin, I could just imagine how much fun he’d have with that info.

Hands gripped my wrists, pinning them to the bed and I turned my face away when I felt the press of his lips on my cheeks. He gripped both my wrists with one hand, keeping them pinned over my head and I flinched when I felt his fingers pulling the fabric of my panties aside, just enough for the blunt head of his cock to press against my slit.

“Yoongi, you there?” Jungkook said softly and Yoongi grunted over the phone. I felt my face flame in embarrassment.

“You’re a sick bastard but I’m used to it. What’s up?” he said casually.

“Remember how we used to wonder just how tight Elena’s cunt was… back when we were in school.”

Fucking monster, I thought in disbelief. I hate him I hate him I hate him….

“Good times…” Yoongi chuckled lightly .

Jungkook pushed into me in one hard thrust and pain shot straight up my spine, my insides burning like he’d fucked me with a knife and not his body. I couldn’t stop the cry of agony that got torn of me, my eyes tearing up and tears spilling over onto my cheeks.

“Damn Jungkook, she okay?” Yoongi’s chuckle made me want to claw his face off, and just the urge to kill was growing inside me.

“Well, I can confirm that it is, in fact just as tight as we thought…” He grunted, thrusting into me at a pace that was inhumane, every push and drag of him rubbing my insides raw and I bit down on the sheets under me, afraid that I would do something absolutely humiliating, like beg him to stop.

“Good, you should let me take that tight ass for a ride someday then. With her permission of course…. I’m a gentleman after all. Big on consent.” He laughed and I swallowed the urge to tell him that I would puncture his balls with a switchblade if he came anywhere near me.

“Oh, she’s going to do whatever I ask her to….aren’t you baby…” He grunted, “ Turn around so I can see you.”

He pulled out of me, his weight lifting off my body as he moved away. I couldn’t move, limbs numb and insides throbbing in pain . His palm landed on my thigh, hard and the sharp sting of it made me jump.

“I said turn around, I want to see your face when I fuck you.” Jungkook growled. I stayed limp, breathing hard and he grunted impatient, fingers sinking into my hair , yanking me to my knees and the movement made my legs scream in protest.

“How’s she so quiet? You fucked the voice out of her, kook-ah?” Yoongi asked amused and Jungkook pulled me by the hair, dragging me to the center and pushing me down till my head landed on the pillow.

“Hyung you should see her right now, all fucked out …. Like she’s never had a dick in her before.” He shook his head, “ Fucking slut. Take that off and hold yourself open for me.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending and he grabbed both my hands, placing them on my knees.

“Grab your knees and pull your legs back… So I can fuck that tight cunt the way I want to.” He said slowly, like I was a dog he was trying to train and I stared at him , defiantly.

“ Go to hell.” I whispered.

Yoongi’s laughter came from somewhere to the right.

“Your dirty talk needs work, Kook ah… Tell her she’s a precious little kitten and she makes you feel really good…. Bitches love that shit…”

Jungkook hovered over me, grabbing the back of my thighs and spreading them wide enough to make me whimper in pain.

“Is that so babygirl? You want me to tell you that? That you make daddy’s cock feel good?” He cooed, nudging the tip against me again and I had never hated anyone so much in my life. I stared up at his face, and he smiled at me, a cheeky little grin that made his bunny teeth stand out and for a second he looked so deceptively angelic and the glimmer of his piercing caught my eye.

I couldn’t help but swallow, gaze trained on the glint of metal on his tongue.

“You like that?” He grinned suddenly, sticking his tongue out for me to see, I felt my eyes widen at how sinfully good he looked .” Hyung she likes my tongue piercing.”

“Show her how it feels on her clit.” Yoongi laughed and I could barely fully process what I heard before Jungkook was crawling down my body, arms, curling on my thighs and yanking me onto his tongue .

I felt the press of his tongue on my slit, licking right into me and the jolt of pleasure was so unexpected, the pleasure so unwanted and yet so overwhelming and I couldn’t stop the way my body thrashed against the streets, lips parted as I practically mewled out in pleasure.

��Definitely a kitten…” Yoongi called out and I shuddered as Jungkook slipped two fingers into me , the ice cold press of his ring inside me making me jump. I wanted to pull away, grab his hair and yank him off but I couldn’t because it was

“Next time I’ll put the dick piercing in too, yeah? Fuck you with a bit of metal on my cock so you can feel that up there…. ” He laughed into my thighs and I screamed when he bit into the flesh there , hard.

“I’m getting bored… Either turn on facetime so I can at least jerk off to this , or I’m hanging up…” Yoongi called out .

“Hyung she clenches down on me every time she hears your voice… Just stay on for a few more minutes yeah, she tastes so fucking good, I’m gonna cum soon….” Jungkook added another finger, slipping in deep before spreading them apart inside me. I whimpered when he pushed his tongue in between the wet digits, licking into my walls and I could feel the ball of his piercing drag against my walls, ice cold and hard.

Was it fucked up that I did clench down on him again, my body apparently a slave to my base desires even as my mind screamed that he was the absolute worst bastard on the face of the planet.

“Elena, you owe me a blowjob at least for this…” Yoongi called out and I glared at the phone.

“I’ll bite your fucking dick off if you come anywhere near me.” I snapped.

“Fuck, I could get off just to that mouthy fuckhole of hers…..” Yoongi grunted.

Jungkook pulled away, climbing back up over me and lightly slapping my breasts.

“Now, how about you open that mouth and let me fuck it?”

Yoongi snorted from behind us and Jungkook glared at the phone before glaring at me again.

“Well?”

“You want to know how hard I can bite?” I said sharply, the pleasure ebbing away into nothing and resentment taking it place, the momentarily physicality of the situation fading and the reminder of who he was and who I was entering my sex addled brain.

“No.. You’re right…. But you know what, I’m not feeling it anymore. I was right.. you really aren’t qualified to be my whore. Your body…it’s frigid like a fucking popsicle…such a fucking turn off. ” He reached over and hung up on the phone.

“Now…”he whispered, leaning in closer and I yelped, when his fingers closed over my throat..” Shut your mouth and take what I give you like a grateful bitch.”

I swallowed when he pushed into me again, his pace steady as he fucked into me, eyes closed and I realized that he was almost fully dressed having just unbuttoned himself enough to get his cock out.

When he stiffened, spilling into me his eyes blew open and he locked eyes with me, wide eyed and for one horrible second he looked young and vulnerable and hurt.

I blinked as he pulled out, the sticky warm mess of his cum dripping down my inner thighs and onto the sheets.

“Well, that was much worse than I thought it would be.” He said and I stayed on the bed as he grabbed his phone and buttoned himself back up.

He smirked at me and then reached into his pocket.

I quickly pulled myself together, ignoring the aches and pains and getting to my knees before reaching for my dress on the bed. it was kind of pointless because I still had Hoseok’s shirt on and I wasn’t going to take that off in front of Jungkook.

“Well, I’m a man of my word , Elena so…here you go..just as we discussed.” He tossed a coin on the bed and I stared at the engraved 500 on the shiny surface, feeling my rage swell inside me.

“If you still want to work out a payment plan for your sister’s bills …. Why don’t you come to my office tomorrow?” He tossed his card on the bed before moving away to the door.

Fucking bastard.

Author’s note : My whole life is filled with regrets .

#jungkook smut #bts smut #ts fics #jungkook fics #bts fanfic #jungkook mafia au #bts mafia au

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samanthadalton · 4 years ago

Text

Star crossed lovers (au)

pairings: poppy x mc (bea)

warnings: throughout this fic (there will be a bunch of parts to it) there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide

reader discretion is advised

(this chapter is more about setting up the basis of the story so is more context than anything else, part 2 will be more interesting I swear 😭, also it’s like 4am so if there’s any gramatical mistakes I’ll fix it later)

taglist: @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @cloud9in @simpforpoppy @ognenniyvolk (I’m pretty sure this is my tag list if you wanna be added or taken off for future chapters just ask 😊)

word count: 3.6k

Part 1: The introduction

As the sun began to set, the houses along the street began to bask in its warm glow. The neighbourhood is quiet, like always, excluding the occasional car engine rumbling through the roads until they disappear into the distance and once again the silence is deafening. This neighbourhood was your typical suburban type, their structures stood tall and bold. Looking from an aerial point of view, one could argue that it’s almost like the houses have been copied and pasted along the street, they almost look perfect. One theory is that they were purposely made to look like they're perfect because they don’t want anyone to find out their secrets. It’s harder to catch a true glimpse when everything looks flawless.

If you compare the northside and the southside of Greensburg, it makes it seem like they’re living in two different worlds and maybe they are. The polarisation between the rich and the poor only becomes bigger, demonstrated by the high socio-economic backgrounds of those who lived in the north who go to the best schools, have the best jobs and sometimes own more than one house. Compared to those in a low socio economic background in the south, who usually have to work two jobs just to feel some sort of financial stability in their lives or have no choice but to indulge in illegal jobs just so they can feel some sort of power and superiority and have money of course. Only a few in the south are able to lead a straight and narrow life and successfully do it without having to engage in the culture of illegal activities.

Bea Hughes, a girl who lives in Greensburg is someone who managed to immerse herself in both worlds. She used to be part of the upper class lifestyle but after life fucked her and her family over at the tender age of 8 years old, she was pulled into another world, one that she quickly had to acquaint herself with, because in the south, survival matters. The luxuries she once knew as a kid had disappeared and she constantly lived in a fight or flight situation. Now as her senior year of high school looms ahead, she finds herself still living in a similar situation, but instead of dealing with gangs or her addict of a mother, she had to deal with stuck up rich kids in Greensburg’s most prestigious school, Belvoire, which may have been her toughest obstacle of all. Against all odds, Bea managed to earn a scholarship at this private school when she was 15, and in order to keep her place, she has to maintain a 4.0 GPA, join at least one extra curricular activity and immerse herself into the culture of the school (whatever that meant).

Even though life managed to be shitty most of the time, there was one constant, one thing that made life worth living, one thing that made her the happiest…

“Crap”, the brunette clung onto the branch of the tree trying to regain her footing after narrowly avoiding her death (or more likely a trip to the hospital). After recovering from her mild slip, she rapped on the window beside her and a few seconds later the window slides open and as she enters the room she trips up on her own feet landing face down on the floor.

“Real smooth”

Bea chuckles at the snark comment as she looks up and as the sunlight shines through the window, it highlights all the features of the other girl. She was shorter than Bea (although not in this moment since Bea was practically laying on the floor), her facial features were sharp and her strawberry blonde hair fell perfectly around her shoulders. Her plush pink lips were curled up in a small smile as she offered a hand to the girl to help her up.

“I totally meant to do that” Bea takes her hand and lifts herself off the floor, and after she quickly dusts herself off and grabs the blonde’s wrist pulling her towards her while her other hand settles on her waist. “So how much time do we have?”

The petite girl wounds her arms around the taller girl’s neck and slightly tip toes to whisper, “my dad has dinner with a bunch of investors so he’s not going to be back until midnight”. A huge smile appears on her face as she leans back slightly taking in the appraising look of the brunette.

“Perfect”.

Bea moves in to kiss the blonde, passion already igniting as their tongues tangle in a fight for dominance until Bea suddenly pulls away, foreheads touching, eyes blazing with desire as she whispers against the other girl’s lips, “I missed you Pops”.

The other girl rolls her eyes and unwinds her arms from Bea’s neck, slightly pushing her back and while maintaining eye contact she walks backwards towards the bed and sits on the edge, “shuttup, you literally saw me yesterday” her tone attempting to come across as catty but instead comes out in a more playful manner.

Bea raises an eyebrow as she saunters to where the girl is sitting and places two fingers under the girl’s chin lifting her face until their eyes meet, “so? I’m suddenly not allowed to miss my girlfriend?” She leans in, her lips ghosts around the blonde’s lips.

“You talk too much, come on we’re wasting daylight” the blonde grabs Bea’s shirt and pulls her down onto the bed with her as they tussle in the sheets, lips crashing against one another reigniting the same passion from the kiss before.

“Poppy..” Bea all but moans when Poppy places wet kisses along her jawline and begins biting at her neck. Not wanting her to have all the fun, Bea suddenly flips Poppy over pressing her deeper into the mattress as she ravenously kisses her, as if Poppy is the only one who can satiate her desire, and honestly speaking? She probably is.

“No more foreplay, I want you now” Poppy breathlessly says, breaking the heated kiss. Bea sits up to straddle Poppy, intertwining both hands with hers and places it above the blonde’s head and grinds on her hips earning a low groan from Poppy.

“Ask and you shall receive my queen”

In response, Poppy rolls her eyes and her tongue darts out of her mouth, teasingly moving against her own soft lips and as Bea leans in for another kiss her slender fingers move lightly above Poppy’s inner thigh, touching everywhere except where Poppy wanted her the most. After a few pleads from the blonde, Bea finally indulges her desires and they moved in perfect syncopation.

…..

After a while, Bea and Poppy collapse into each other’s arms, exhausted but satisfied recovering from their physically demanding rendezvous. Bea lays on her back with one arm behind her head and one arm wrapped around the petite girl who fit perfectly in her larger frame. Poppy relaxes her head on Bea’s chest, feeling lulled by her heartbeat which brings her a sense of calm and security. Bea softly kisses her forehead and looks down at the girl, entranced by her beauty, enrapturing the way her breaths are slightly longer and deeper than usual, the way her hair falls around her face and how her fingers subconsciously ghost around Bea’s stomach drawing lazy shapes.

Poppy Min Sinclair, a 5’2 blonde beauty who is Bea’s entire world. Everything about her screams perfection in Bea’s eyes. She’s a straight A student, captain of the cheerleading team, and likes to spend time volunteering at her local animal shelter and is secretly an amazing artist. Though her family was one of the richest families in Greensburg, Poppy wasn’t your average highschool rich girl. Though she would often go on regular shopping sprees and refuse to wear anything that wasn’t designer (unless it was Bea’s clothes), she never treated Bea any differently than how others would. She was a bright girl, who was loving, friendly, fierce when she needed to be and extremely loyal. When it was just her and Bea she could show her true self, not pretend to be someone she’s not or play a certain role, she could just simply be Poppy instead of Poppy Min Sinclair. Poppy often felt the gravity that came with her name, especially since that’s all her father pressured her to be, a Min Sinclair.

Hayden Min Sinclair, Poppy’s father, owned an entire empire of companies, differentiating from technology based businesses to architecture and finance. To say he was a businessman was putting it lightly, he was almost like a god or at least someone who was highly worshipped by business moguls. He built up his family’s name and within a decade he was a force to be reckoned with. Hayden Min Sinclair worked his ass off to lift his companies off the ground because as a person of colour he knew he would have to work 10x harder to get what he wanted. All he ever wants is life for his daughter to be easy, the irony is, that he’s one of the main reasons why it’s so hard.

He’s a man of honour and pride and has never expected anything less from his daughter, hoping she would keep the dignity attached to the Min Sinclair name and bring it to new heights. So his traditionalist and conservative views means that he’s expecting Poppy to marry a man, who’s also an aristocrat, in which Bea is 0 for 2 for Poppy’s father’s expectations. Hence, Bea and Poppy have to keep their relationship a secret, a way to protect both Poppy and her future but also Bea from Mr Min Sinclair’s wrath. Reputation means everything to the Min Sinclairs and to Mr Min Sinclair specifically, especially after Poppy’s mother passed away when Poppy was 10 after an unfortunate incident of a drunken hit and run which left Poppy permanently broken from the loss of her mother but had all the socialites gossiping about the tragedy for months. To this day Poppy and her father still mourn her loss and Poppy often turns to Bea for comfort, for her companionship could provide the means of making her forget the empty presence of her mother that was left behind.

They’d known each other since they were 7, when Bea used to live in the very same neighbourhood after the Min Sinclair’s moved into the neighbourhood, and they spent almost every waking hour together, attached by the hip. They were the best of friends and almost nothing could get in their way. Emphasis on the ‘almost’.

When Bea’s father left Bea’s mother, Isabella when Bea was 8 and her sister Aria was 2, after finding out that Aria wasn’t his child as a result of a one night stand Isabella had, Bea’s family struggled to afford to live in the neighborhood especially since Bea’s father was the breadwinner of the house and their main source of income. After a series of bad decisions resulting in Bea’s mother losing her job as a banker, the 3 girls were forced to move to the south of Greensburg since it was the only thing they could afford.

Bea and Poppy were still inseparable at this point, either Bea would take 2 buses to go to Poppy’s house or Poppy would call the family’s driver so she could go over the Bea’s. The breaking point for their friendship was the day when Bea’s mother once took the girls to the park when they were 11 and after she had gotten so intoxicated to the point she threw up in front of all the children, and Poppy’s father prohibited Poppy from seeing Bea again.

“That girl and her family will bring shame to our family’s name, imagine what your mother would say” Poppy can still hear her father’s words ringing in her head from time to time, but everytime she looks at Bea, all her expectations would disappear and she would just simply be happy.

They began dating when they were 14, after Poppy had managed to scrounge up all her courage to kiss Bea on valentine’s day, after the two girls had snuck away to a diner to hang out like they would usually do. Poppy looked as if she was going to pass out from embarrassment when Bea didn’t reciprocate the kiss at first, however in Bea’s defence she was more startled than anything else. When Poppy was about to apologise Bea moved in and gave Poppy a sweet and chaste kiss on the lips and from then they decided they would be together. Bea couldn’t believe her luck when she was able to call Poppy hers, she felt like she didn’t have much to offer Poppy as she had yet to have earned the scholarship to Belvoire, the same school that Poppy had been attending. As well as coming from a troubled family life she didn’t want to implicate Poppy in any way but staying away from her had proven to be too difficult.

The consequences of their forbidden love was much harder on her than it was on Poppy, still nevertheless she would do anything for Poppy, which was proven time and time again when they have to act like strangers at school. In spite of that, the stolen glances, the stolen moments, the stolen kisses, it made it all worth it.

“Are you ready for school tomorrow” Poppy’s soft voice vibrated against Bea’s chest.

Bea lets out a soft chuckle, “What do you think Pops? I’m the school’s lonely girl”

Bea’s reputation at Belvoire could not be worse, in a school filled with entitled brats, it was difficult for her to make any friends considering her economic background. She also couldn’t rely on Poppy and her popularity since she couldn’t be within any vicinity of the girl she loves. Bea and Poppy’s friends had a history of not getting along, and since Poppy couldn’t allow the true nature of her relationship with Bea to come to light, Bea had to deal with all sorts of harassment and bullying from them. Bea often had to remind herself that she was only a target because with money comes a lot of entitlement, especially from snobby teenagers. Moreover, the consequences of her mother’s actions also didn’t help Bea as the stories followed her everywhere, causing all sorts of rumours to spread like wildfire.

Poppy lifted her head slightly to look into Bea’s eyes, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant it’s the last year of highschool, that means one last chance for us to win nationals and for you to come on top for volleyball.”

As mentioned beforehand, the extra curricular Bea chose to partake in was volleyball, not only did being part of a winning sports team look good on a college application, it also helped Bea with releasing her pent up anger and dominating her competition. Her favourite thing in particular was the smaller group of cheerleaders, including Poppy, who were at every game after Poppy made a compelling argument to the principle about the importance of raising school spirit in all sport related inquiries. Bea would often steal a glimpse at Poppy, who always came up with extra dance moves and cheers, sending secret messages that she was rooting for her girlfriend.

“One more year of highschool, do you know what that means Pops?” Bea smiled devilishly at Poppy who returned the smile and leaned her face in, lips ghosting around Bea’s.

“Why don’t you remind me?”

Bea grabbed the blonde’s waist and stole a quick kiss, “One more year means that next year we’ll both be in New York, and we can finally be together for real”.

“I can’t wait to live off campus with you, we should start looking at places now so we can get ahead and find a good place sin-” Bea cuts her off with a kiss while Poppy smiles, “I hate when you interrupt me with kisses”

“No you don’t”

“You’re right I don’t, but you better not slack this year Bea Hughes otherwise I’ll beat your ass if you don’t get into Columbia”

“I would never, I’m literally a better student than you babe. I would say you shouldn’t slack either but we all know daddy’s going to help you get into NYU.”

Poppy playfully slaps Bea on the arm who just laughs, “hey, no way in hell am I going to use the Min Sinclair name like that, when” (she made sure to put extra emphasis as she spoke) “I get into NYU it will be because of how amazing and talented I am”

“Not to mention damn right gorgeous and smart and incredibly flexible”

Poppy moves to straddle Bea, hands on either side of her head and she leans in, “hmm, you think the admission office will be looking at those particular things?” her tone teasing and inviting.

Bea attempts to move her head up only for Poppy to quickly place her perfectly manicured hand around her neck and push her down, Bea’s eyes flash as her voice pulsates with desire, “well I’ll definitely be looking, for educational reasons of course”

Poppy breaks out into a wide grin as the girls share a passionate kiss, tongues tangled together as they fight for dominance, Bea tries to envelop Poppy’s entire mouth with her kiss but Poppy’s unrelenting perseverance pushes through as she tightens the grip around Bea’s neck, pushing her deeper into the mattress. Bea succumbs to Poppy’s kisses and allows the blonde’s tongue to explore the inside of her mouth, getting lost in the wave of pleasure that emanates from Poppy’s lips.

After a few more kisses, Bea looks at the digital clock sitting on top of Poppy’s dresser, “damn it’s getting late I should go”

“Wha- it’s barely 10 o’clock”, Poppy pouts as her eyebrows furrow slightly.

“I know” Bea places a hand on Poppy’s face gently brushing against her cheekbone, “but you need your 8 hours of sleep and I gotta make sure everything is ready for Aria tomorrow”.

Poppy sighs defeatedly as she knows how important Bea’s half sister is to her, she’s practically an older sister to Aria and is also incredibly protective of her too. “Well tell Aria I said hi”

Bea moves to stand and Poppy grabs her hand, “wait, you didn’t tell me, how’s your mom?”

Bea nonchalantly shrugged and gazed at the floor, “same old, same old, she drinks herself into oblivion not giving a shit about the rest of us”

Poppy rubbed comforting circles on Bea’s hand, “don’t worry Bea one day it will get better”

Bea lets out a humourless laugh, “I’ve been saying that for almost 10 years”

She stalks over to the window and lets half of her body hang out ready to reach out to the tree, Poppy moves over and gives Bea one last lingering kiss, “You know you can use the front door, my dad’s not here”

“Yeah I know but it’s always so awkward when I run into Rita at this time because she knows that I’m screwing you”, Bea smiles while Poppy raises an eyebrow

“Screwing me?”

“Sorry I meant making love to you” she gives Poppy a quick kiss

“Much better, and anyways Rita doesn’t care, she’s been rooting for us this entire time”

“It’s okay, don’t worry P, I’ve been climbing in and out of these windows and over that gate for years, how else do you think I got these muscles”, she flexes her toned arms while Poppy runs a hand over them, “I love you”

“I love you too”, Poppy watches as Bea moves out of the window, gripping the tree and making her descent, “wait” she shouts down, “where did you leave your bike?”

Bea smiles up at her, “I parked it a couple of blocks away from here it’s fine, I’ll text you when I get home” she blows a kiss to Poppy and begins making her way over the gate and into the street which shone bright from the lampposts. Poppy sighs and closes her window and begins getting ready for bed until a knock at her door catches her attention. Rita, her nanny and keeper enters the room and looks at Poppy with a knowing glance, ‘Bea didn’t want to stay for dinner?’

Poppy laughs slightly and shakes her head, “no she had to get home to make sure her sister is okay”

Rita leaves a plate with a few cucumber and cheese sandwiches on the dresser, “don’t stay up too late Miss Min Sinclair,” and with that she gives a little wave and leaves the room closing the door behind her. After eating half of her sandwich and going through her extensive nighttime routine, she receives a text from Bea

💖 B

Just got home now

Love you and goodnight my love

Poppy smiles at her phone and then sets her phone on her dresser, not before putting it on charge, and drifts off to sleep.

Bea on the other hand was wide awake. When she safely parked her motorbike near her house and texted Poppy as she entered the house. She looked up from her phone into the dark room to see the tv quietly playing while her mother was passed out on the couch with a half drunk bottle of vodka on the table. She moved towards the couch covering her mom with a blanket and then went into her bedroom to check on her sister who was soundly sleeping in her bed. Bea headed into the kitchen took some cold pizza from the fridge and did some last minutes checks to make sure both her and her sister were equipped and ready for school tomorrow. She settled in her bed, her mind racing with thoughts about school and how challenging the first day back will be.

read part 2:

#playchoices #queen b #poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair

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kimshavacado · 5 years ago

Text

Dead Heat Ch. 9

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: Arranged Marriage/Mafia AU

Summary: Three extremely powerful families with enough power to bring down entire governments, all with vastly different views on how things should be run. The Min family thinks everything can be solved with money, the Jeon family think everything can be solved with violence, and the Kim family relies more on thought which leads to a lack of action. When Kim Y/N loses her father, she only has one way to save herself and her family. But it involves having to give herself over to a stranger. How the hell is she not supposed to punch him in his stupid rich face?

Dead Heat Masterlist

Warnings: Well this is the one where they have unprotected sex. So... yeah.

A/N:�� Welp. Here you go. I couldn't stand to reread it so I hope it's adequate. I'll see you all in hell.

Chapter 9: Don’t You Want Tea?

Jimin has done a lot less thinking lately. At least when it comes to thinking about you. Since his failed attempt to reach out to you, his mind has been dwelling on simpler things. Overthinking had always been your job, so he wasn't used to feeling a loss of purpose. If he wasn't there for you, what was he even doing here? Sitting on the rail of the fire escape of the loft he's currently squatting, he thinks instead about the distance in between himself and the ground. It's only about 15 meters, but plenty far enough to do some damage should he fall. The question is whether or not it would hurt. His optimism says that it won't, and that his relief would be immediate. Would you even know if he did? Maybe eventually, but by then would you really care? "If you're gonna jump, make sure you tell me first. Someone's gotta clean it up." Hoseok says from inside. It's meant to be a joke, but neither of them laugh. "I'm not gonna jump." Jimin responds, annoyed. He takes one last look at the ground before throwing his legs back over to the correct side and hoping down. "You haven't been checking your phone, have you?" Hoseok says. "We gotta go, the war is afoot!"

To save yourself from the embarrassment of waking up with Yoongi after last night, you yeet yourself out of bed as soon as you're conscious. The sun has just come up so you decide to wander around the house. When you come across a patio that you weren't able to see last night, you slide open the doors to meet the cold morning air. The cool breeze and soft light from the low sun give off a mood just ethereal enough to take your mind off of everything. You lean over the rail of the patio that overlooks the downslope of a hill that the house appears to be built on. Honestly, these are your favorite kind of mornings. Warm sheets, cool air, bright sun, nice views, the only thing that's missing is a good cup of tea. While your wrapped up in your appreciation of your surroundings, you don't notice the man who has joined your company. In his search for you, he finds the patio door ajar and leans against the frame to observe you in your natural habitat. You appear to be relishing in the pure bliss of the moment and Yoongi can’t help but think that he could get used to mornings like this.

This is what brings Yoongi to start thinking about your relationship. He’s always been someone who other people find to be cold and unmoving, and he used to think that you thought this way about him too, at least that’s what he’d gathered from all the times you’ve yelled at him. But sometimes you can be warm, kind, and unconditionally accepting of him, which is something that he’s never been able to say about anyone in a long time.

And that scares the living hell out of him.

Both of you live in a world where things don’t generally work out in anyone’s favor, and hell, he’s not even sure how you feel about him when you’re sober, but looking at you on the patio right now feels like a little slice of peace in the messy pie that is his life and he never wants that peace to end. Of course, that’s not a completely realistic sentiment but that doesn’t mean that you two can’t try.

In his frustration, Yoongi unintentionally lets out a small sigh that gets you to turn around abruptly. Now, the appropriate response would probably be to awkwardly apologize and dip out of the doorway as soon as possible, but Yoongi must be having some sort of an out of body experience because he kind of just stands there with his mind blank and mouth open for a second. You too have a knack for awkward silence, so you stand there and stare at his dumb face.

He seems to be having a war in his head because he looks away from you and suddenly closes his mouth to gain his composure. And eventually he does apologize for interrupting your morning but he clearly doesn’t mean it because he’s on you in a second. It’s so alarming that you don’t even notice Yoongi is kissing you for the first few moments, but when you do, it only feels natural to reciprocate.

With the sun behind you and Yoongi’s body closing the gap, the cold morning air doesn’t cut your skin as sharply as it did before. In fact, as your kiss deepens, it almost feels like your body is overheating, and you feel this warmth travel down your spine even though Yoongi is barely touching you.

You’re perfectly content to continue, and Yoongi is the one who pulls away, but only a few inches. As you look into his eyes, you feel a tinge of embarrassment sneak up on you. Most of the time that you two have shared your affections you’ve been drunk off your asses.

“Look,” Yoongi pulls you back out of your thoughts. “I’m not really good at these kinds of things.” He gestures in between your bodies. “I know you were thrown into this shitty situation out of nowhere, so I get it if you…like…” He huffs out in frustration and looks away from you. “I don’t know. I just… feel like this could work?” He looks to you expectantly.

You stand in awe of his sudden confession and it feels like all that heat manifests itself again. With your cheeks painted red, the only response that you are able to come up with is to reach out and reconnect your lips. In doing so, you’ve moved the both of you closer to the doorway inside and Yoongi uses this to his advantage. Since your hands are on his face, his take claim over your hips and he spins you around, pinning you against the glass on the open door.

Not so long ago this would’ve felt insane, but all you can think about is how secure you feel under Yoongi’s hold and how you two have waited so long to bond in this way. Again, Yoongi cuts your thoughts short by closing the distance between your bodies. This time, however, his hips sit more firmly against yours and you’re finally able to feel all of him.

It seems impossible, but somehow the kiss gets more intense and it feels like you’ve begun a wrestling match with your tongues and teeth. It must be the pent up frustration from both of you when he left you hanging before. It definitely affects him too because his hands slip a little bit lower and underneath your shirt to feel your bare sides. You gasp into his mouth and he smirks against yours and you swear it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen him do.

You’re starting to get addicted to the shivers he gives you and use his reaction as affirmation, so you move to continue. However, as you reach for the hem of his shirt, you hear a buzzing noise from the house that almost makes you jump out of your skin. When you separate from him, he appears amused at your alarm.

“Relax, I put on a pot of water before. For tea.” Yoongi soothes, and you could swear you’ve never smiled wider.

“Tea? I didn’t know you liked it.” You say, already knowing his response.

“I don’t particularly. But I thought… you’d want it.” It’s a simple thoughtful action but you still have to hold back from crying and ruining the moment. So you attack him with kisses instead, and he has to peel you off of him. “Okay, got it, right move. But I really should get that.”

It makes sense, wouldn’t want the place to burn down after your first night, but when he walks away, you feel his absence. Things between the two of you are definitely going to be different now, so why not keep going. When you walk back inside, you see him taking the water off of the stove and you begin to remove your shirt.

“What are you doing, don’t you want tea?” He asks but you ignore him and continue walking towards the bedroom.

“I’ll be in the bedroom waiting for you to man up and face your emotions.” All you hear is a brief laugh of disbelief as you continue your journey to bed, shedding clothes as you go.

He obviously follows reaching the doorway to the bedroom by the time that you’re left in only your underwear. He doesn’t have much time to look because you’re on him again pulling his shirt up over his head as he backs you up into the bed. When you fall backwards, the cool sheets shock the skin on your back and you sit up to start pulling down Yoongi’s sweatpants.

You are very shocked to find out that he is, apparently, not wearing underwear. You find yourself head to head with him. You admire how pretty he is before looking up at him with mischief in your eyes.

“No underwear? Didn’t expect that from you.” You tease.

“Is that how this is gonna go? Cause I’m not sure you want to play that game.” He warns. Yoongi may appear all tough but you’re like 80% sure he’s just as much a switch as you are. You can’t help but think about what’d be like to ride him so yeah, you do want to play that game.

“I’ll take my chances.” You say as you pull his lips to yours and wrap you legs around his lower half. Yoongi lowers himself over you and you take the opportunity to feel him up. He’s slender but has some firm muscles that start to twitch when your hands glide over them.

He manages to slip one of his hands underneath you and you arch your back so that he can undo your bra. It takes him a moment, but when he reaches the clasp, he helps you slide the straps off your shoulders. He then takes his turn of feeling you up. His hands are on your sides again as his head travels downward toward your underwear. His mouth is wet but his hair tickles your skin more than his tongue or lips.

When he reaches the only fabric that’s keeping you at least a little bit decent, he grabs them hem with his mouth. A strangled sound leaves your mouth as you make eye contact while he pulls off your underwear with just his mouth. Now you have a new definition of the hottest thing. He positions himself back between your legs to look at what he’s just unveiled but you stop him with your hands before he can actually do anything.

“Sweet concept, but if I don’t have you right now, I’ll lose my mind.” He smirks again at this.

“It’s okay, we’ll have plenty of time for that later.” The thought turns you on even more. You scoot up more on the bed until you’re both comfortable and Yoongi looks to you in question. “You okay with this?” He gives you one last chance to back out and you’d be crazy to take it.

“I’m clean, on the pill, and really need this.” You whine out and Yoongi could almost climax from just hearing your whines, without even ever being inside you. He concedes and leans on one elbow in order to maneuver himself to where he need to be. You inhale when you feel him at your entrance and can’t help but smile up at him. You stare at each other as he slowly slips in, inch by inch. When he’s finally fully seated you let out the breath that you didn’t know you were holding and Yoongi moves to embrace you more intimately.

As Yoongi gently rests his forehead on yours you can almost feel your life weaving itself back together again. The weight that’s been left in your soul from all the shit you’ve both had to go through in your lives feels not as deep and hard to carry when you two are together like this. And you know he can feel it too by the sweet kiss he places on your lips.

When you start to experimentally swivel your hips, Yoongi takes the cue to begin moving. The feeling of his length slowly moving against your walls scratches an itch that you’ve been dying to scratch for a long time now and you can’t help but impatiently chase after his hips. After a minute or so, he catches on and pulls out of you before flipping the both of you over and scooting himself up to rest against the headboard.

You immediately reach down to resume and when you sink back down, it hits differently. It’s deeper and almost more intimate. Yoongi’s hands are all over your sides, something he’s gathered that you like from the little gasps that are escaping you. Occasionally, Yoongi makes small grunts against your lips as well, but he seems to not be very vocal. You take a note to have fun with that later.

It feels good to have someone care like this. It’s not just some temporary fix to get your mind off of reality. Yoongi is your current reality and you honestly didn’t think this much emotion could fit into sex. Every time you feel like you couldn’t be closer to each other you’d feel something new and every time you don’t think it could feel any more euphoric it does, until you’re both on the edge, Yoongi focusing his strength on keeping your hips moving at a reasonable speed.

With the angle that you sweep your hips, your clit rubs perfectly against his front and your reaching your high in a matter of seconds later. You stretch your back straight when you do so and Yoongi wraps his arms around your back as he finishes just after you. You collapse with your head in the crook of his neck as he continues to embrace you. You’re perfectly content to continue to lie there until you feel fluid seeping out of you and make an exasperated noise. Yoongi seems to get it as he pulls out making you wince. He kisses your shoulder which remains in front of his face. When you don’t move he offers an incentive.

“Why don’t you go clean up and I’ll finish making that tea?” You move from his neck to kiss him firmly and his hands move delicately across your skin. “That’d be wonderful.”

You and Yoongi spend what you may call one of the best days of your life together. In between the many times that you two make love that day, you talk, eat, bicker, and he even crushes you in mario cart a few times, something that you get payback for in the sheets. By the end of the night, it seems like there is nothing else to be said, and you’re finally hopeful that when you wake up, there won’t be a crushing awkwardness between the two of you.

The concept of having someone to understand you is not something that you’ve had the privilege to come across, but Yoongi makes everything you’ve been through have a purpose. You probably wouldn’t have ended up here if both of your lives weren’t complete shit, and that makes you think.

“What if we met under different circumstances?”

“What, like if I met you and asked you out? I think we’d actually end up here sooner?”

“You still think we’d be here?”

“Yeah. If we met, there’s no way we wouldn’t, even if we resisted. We’re too right for each other.” He looks at you as he says this and you blush a little at his straightforwardness.

“Wow, you sure you aren’t drunk?” You bury yourself in his chest.

“Nope! Just high on life.“

“Please stop talking.”

He obliges and wraps his arm around you before you both fall into a desperately needed slumber. Unfortunately it’s cut short by a phone call a few hours later in the early morning. You have come to associate things like this as bad news. Around 3am, and while off the grid, no one should be calling you with good news. After sharing a worried look, Yoongi reaches over to answer it.

You watch Yoongi intently as he listens to the person on the other line. He lets out a sigh and wipes a hand down his face. He looks stressed and that only escalates your worry. “Are you sure?” He asks through the phone. After a few more moments he looks almost defeated. “Yeah, okay, we’ll be there.” And he hangs up.

“They attacked again.” He says plainly.

“Well I guess it was good we weren’t there then. Did anyone get hurt?” You ask.

“No, Y/N, not our place. They got to Jin and his- your men.” You stare at him with ignorant eyes not trying to accept the possibility of what he’s implying. “They’re all gone.”

“Wait, what do mean, all gone? Like they left or…” You can’t bring yourself to finish because Yoongi is already shaking his head. “I’m sorry. Really, I didn’t think they were capable of it.” And you wish you could hear Yoongi attempting to console you, but all you can feel is the anger bubbling up inside of you. All your people have been ruthlessly slaughtered in the middle of the night and you’d bet your ass that Park Jimin was part of it.

A/N: I have to go dip my computer in holy water now. Stay safe and healthy!

Next Chapter

Tags: @badbyeyoongi @whothefuckstolemykeds @xxqueenwxtchxx @alecmidnight @rjsmochii @itsrapmonstanotdancemonsta @superarmyofdreamersuk @zxlla @1796p @obeythehemmings @betysotelo18 @chogiyeol-utopia @loonyginger @recklesselfless

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iworshipkeanureeves · 5 years ago

Text

Denim Dreams (Scott Favor x Reader)

A/N: This is My Own Private Idaho fanfiction requested by @jadore-keanu30, I also managed to slip in a small part about Scott being ticklish as requested by anon. And maybe let’s imagine this is AU where Mike is not in love with Scott.

Summary: Your friend Mike introduces you to Scott Favor, but you hate him at first. Scott, however, persistently tries to get your attention.

Warnings: language, smut

Words: 2,7 K

Woken by a doorbell, you rolled out of bed grunting. You were never a morning person, so it made you internally scream at whoever was behind that door. To your surprise, it was Mike, and even though you were sort of friends, he would rarely show up at your doorstep, especially this early.

“You can come in, my mom’s at work,” you invited Mike in, but he seemed hesitant to go.

“I thought we could get breakfast,” Mike suggested, leaning on your door frame.

“Are you asking me on a date?” you chuckled teasing him, when you knew this was never going to be the case.

“You’re not exactly my type,” he replied giving you an impish smile, and you rolled your eyes tying your hair up in a messy bun.

“Just give me a minute to change,” you said still wearing pajama and disappeared into your room, leaving him at a doorstep.

------

Mike and you were supportive of each other, but you weren’t particularly that kind of friends who would hang out together much, so all of this was a surprise.

“What’s the occasion?” you wondered as you and Mike were entering a diner.

“I wanted to thank you for saving my ass yesterday,” he replied, with his eyes stuck to the ground, as usual.

In fact, you had saved Mike’s ass many times before. Working at a movie theater, you would help him hide in one of the auditoria, usually from his clients and sometimes from the cops too. You had an understanding of what Mike was doing to get by. Yet, you two had an agreement that he wouldn’t involve you in his business further than that.

After much consideration, you decided to get a burger, which wasn’t a typical breakfast food, but you had a strong craving and it was already after 11 AM, so technically it could have been almost considered lunch. Mike was silent as usual, munching on his waffles, occasionally lifting his eyes to stare into a quiet street, and you could never tell what he was thinking about.

Just as you were about to take a next bite, you sensed the seat next to you caving in. Suddenly, you were being accompanied by a tall dark haired guy. He and Mike exchanged “Hey”s, so you assumed he was probably one of Mike’s friends. You didn’t know him, and it felt weird how he sat next to you instead of Mike. Not that it made you uncomfortable, but you found it rude, especially because he was coarsely invading your private space.

“I’m Scott, I’m Mike’s…”

“I know who you are,” you cut him off, after hearing the name. You recognized him from Mike’s stories. “Mike has told me about you,” you added and went on with another bite of your heavenly delicious burger.

Even though Mike had spoken only favorably about Scott, from what you had heard, you couldn’t approve him. You didn’t like the fact that Scott was privileged with his trust funds and did what he did only for fun. You believed that he would leave Mike any day to get back to his prosperous life, and you knew how much it would hurt your friend. Therefore, Scott was your enemy, even if you hadn’t met him before.

“She’s Y/N,” Mike mumbled, after a long silent pause around the table, and you choked a little looking up to give him a discontent glance.

“What a chatty girl,” Scott hissed ironically, raising his hand for a waitress to come.

“She’s just not an early bird, it’s too soon for her chirps,” Mike intervened, trying to cushion the conversation after seeing your face all frowned.

If Scott really wanted to talk, you decided to go at him.

“Don’t you feel like a fraud here?” you spoke calmly. “This life you’re living for the moment, isn’t it just one of your whims, until you choose to move on to something better?”

You already knew the real answer, you were just curious to see what Scott saw in all of this.

“So just because I’m going to inherit my family funds, it means I can’t live the life I honestly enjoy? Does it always have to be connected to money?”

His emphasis was on enjoyment, and you knew well, it was a brittle, fleeting thing. Yeah, even if this was the life he truly fancied, it was for a short moment only, and that moment was about to end meaning that someone would get hurt. Your dear Mike, most probably.

After finishing the last few sips of your drink, you gather you stuff and were about to put your jacket on.

“Leaving so soon?” Scott scoffed with his obnoxious exhale, and you could almost feel your blood beginning to boil.

“Work,” you looked at him with a painfully fake smile. “Some of us here”, you said pointing between you and Mike, “have to actually earn a living, we have no rich daddies to run to.”

You looked at Scott, implying he should really move, but he seemed to enjoy annoying you and wasn’t going to go anywhere. Playing his game, you decided to just climb over him, sticking your tight-fitted ass right in front of his face, wiggling it a little to tease him even more. Approaching the door, you turned around to give Mike one last goodbye, proudly witnessing Scott’s hand in a pocket, adjusting his emerging boner.

------

It was your usual day at work operating cash register, putting up a smile to everyone and kindly accepting their complaints about high prices and lack of interesting movies, as if it was personally your fault that this theater was kind of shitty.

Just as you thought it couldn’t get worse, it surely did.

What the hell, you thought, looking at Scott entering the movie theater, weirdly alone and still not losing that annoying smile of his.

“Hey there,” Scott spoke, leaning with his elbow on top of your desk. It left you speechless for a moment, as you were astonished by his audacity to come visit you at work. “Come get a drink with me,” he demanded.

“Don’t you see I’m working?” you couldn’t believe his oblivion. How self-centered could he possibly be?

“What about later?”

“Later? Oh yeah, still working,” you smiled mockingly. Scott seemed to be getting a little frustrated and there were no words to describe how much you enjoyed it.

“Fine, then one ticket to Bird on a Wire,” Scott requested, reaching for his wallet.

“Magic word?” you kept taunting him, squeezing every bit of his patience, though he seemed to be holding on surprisingly well.

“Please?” he grunted, slipping you a few bills.

“Rich boy with no manners, what could be worse?” you grinned, shaking your head, handing him the ticket.

Scott only cracked a smile. “See you around,” he said leaving your desk.

You really hoped this wouldn’t be the case, but oh boy, he was not wrong.

------

Scott came in the next week to see Back to the Future III, no stupid flirting this time. He directly asked for the ticket, and even added please, learning from his mistakes. Of course he was nice, it was probably his tactics to get you go out with him, but you knew better than that.

The problem was Scott’s persistence, as he kept on coming every night, and you would chat a little more each time. It was usually about Mike, but other things too. There was something frightening about letting him too close and you would have to remind yourself to keep a distance.

Every time you wanted to change the topic, you could turn to movies, because at some point Scott had probably seen more of those than you had. He saw Total Recall, Dick Tracy, Robocop 2, Days of Thunder, Die Hard 2, well, basically everything the theater was screening for the moment.

Indeed everything.

It seemed like you were unintentionally seeing Scott more than you were seeing Mike, and it drove you crazy. You started asking around if he also came on nights when you weren’t working, hoping that maybe he had just discovered his passion for movies. But that wasn’t the case.

------

One night Scott showed up looking different. His hair was messy, jeans were tighter, and he had a denim jacket on. It was buttoned up, but you could see that he was wearing nothing underneath. You felt bad for finding this tempting, but you couldn’t help it. Anyway, you didn’t have to like Scott as a person to admit how sexy he actually was.

“Hey,” you greeted him. “I don’t think we have a movie that you haven’t seen yet,” you continued, getting rid of all the scorn that you used to have in your voice before. Honestly, you were tired of torturing him, and he genuinely seemed not that bad. At least better than you had expected him to be after the first day of meeting him at that diner.

“Well, then I’ll have to watch Die Hard again,” Scott giggled, suggesting that he didn’t mind it, he just enjoyed coming to the theater.

After handing Scott the ticket, you realized that there might be a day when he wouldn’t come anymore. Or even worse, he would bring someone with him, another girl maybe. You couldn’t believe your thoughts, and how upset it made you. It felt like you were betraying yourself, but there was nothing you could do.

Fuck. You were falling for him

------

It was getting late and the majority of tonight’s screenings had ended, you were washing your hands in the ladies room, thinking about what needed to be done before closing up for the day. You couldn’t believe it when you caught yourself looking in the mirror to adjust your make-up and a few stray hairs, thinking you might meet Scott again.

After all, this wasn’t a bad decision, because just as you were leaving the restroom, your eyes met Scott, who was inspecting movie posters in the empty hallway. He must have heard the door shut, because he immediately turned your way. Was he following you? Waiting for you? You couldn’t tell, but honestly, you didn’t care any longer. You mind was captured by his unbuttoned jacket, exposing his bare stomach, and a scar running along his abs line, leaving you powerless against him.

Coming closer to meet Scott, you felt yourself giving in. He had already put too much time into all this, for it to be just another of his games. Scott was being nice to you, so why push him away? It’s not like you were going to marry him and live happily ever after, but giving him a chance would be something. Something you might even enjoy.

Scott was inches away, glancing down into your eyes. His messy hair was casting shadow over his dark gaze, making you weak in your knees. After looking around, very timidly you ran your fingertips through his exposed scar, feeling his radiating skin. You wanted him so badly, you could feel the heat accumulating between your legs just thinking about it.

Felt like it was now or never, and you decided to go for it.

“Do you have a condom?” you whispered, glancing at him.

“What if I do?” Scott asked, trying to play cool, but you could see the surprise in his eyes.

“Then it’s your lucky day,” you giggled dragging him back to the ladies room, into one of the stalls.

“What if somebody catch us? Aren’t you going to lose your job?” Scott slowed down a little.

“I hate this job,” you smirked, closing the door and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer into a kiss.

You were delicate at first, slowly tasting his fleshy lips, your hands wandering along his sides, slowly reaching inside the jacket, your fingertips brushing his satin skin. Just as you reached Scott’s ribs, you felt his muscles tense and he bounced back a little with a giggle leaving his mouth.

“What a sensitive boy,” you smirked, pulling him closer again, invading his mouth with your tongue this time, writing your name inside his throat. Scott’s palms were on your ass, squeezing it tightly, his bulge pressing on your stomach, throbbing in his tight jeans.

Scott was slowly lifting the hem of your skirt, his hands getting closer to your heat, fidgeting with your skin, and then you felt his fingertips tucked inside your panties, dragging them down. His fingers were navigating through your folds, finding your swollen clit, and rubbing circles on it, while he was passionately kissing your lips.

An unexpected moan left your mouth and Scott had to cover it firmly with his palm, giving you a displeased stare. Finding this funny, you naughtily took two of Scott’s fingers in your mouth, sucking on them, hollowing your cheeks and gazing into his dark lustful eyes, while his other hand was skillfully working your clit. You wanted to scream at how good it felt.

As you were unzipping Scott’s jeans, you felt two of his fingers smoothly sliding inside of your throbbing pussy, slowly stretching you before you take him.

“You’re tight, baby, I want to prepare you a little bit,” he whispered, but the time wasn’t on your side, knowing the theater would be closing soon.

“We have to be quick,” you moaned, dragging his jeans down, and pushing him onto the covered seat. Scott’s thick fingers fell out of you and he took them in his mouth, slowly licking your juices off, maintaining a sultry eye contact. The sight gave you shivers, and the pressure in your lower stomach was getting unbearable.

“So sweet,” he said licking his lips, and went into his pocket to grab a silver packet.

While Scott was giving himself a few strokes and sliding a condom on, you stepped out of your panties that had been left hanging between your ankles and straddled him. Feeling his tip brushing against your slit, you helped him line with your entrance and lowered yourself gradually. He was really big and you felt flames in your walls, but Scott was patiently waiting for you to adjust, his fingers softly brushing your hair.

Getting more comfortable, you started moving faster, taking him all in, feeling his length hitting you in the right spot. Scott’s hands were on your hips keeping your balance, and his lips were placing wet kisses all over your neck. Every thrust was audible with your skin slapping against each other and your wet pussy splashing every time he went all the way in.

Scott had noticed that your thighs were getting tired, so he stood up with you hanging around him, your legs wrapped across his waist. With your back set against the wall, Scott drove into you with force, you could feel and hear his balls slapping your ass and you felt your release coming.

“Scott, I’m close, please just don’t stop,” you whimpered, with incoherent cries leaving your throat, as you felt him pushing even harder. Your abdomen cramped and you came undone with moans that were probably too loud, but you couldn’t care less.

Scott was still jamming into you vigorously, grunting as he came hard, stalling inside of you, with his throbbing cock pulsating against your walls. He was panting, as he looked up to you and smiled, “You’re good?” he asked, catching his breath. But you only managed to nod eagerly, as he was letting your feet to the ground, pulling out of you slowly.

With remaining tingles in your belly, you put your panties on and carefully peeked out to see if it was safe to leave. Leading the way, you held Scott’s hand and asked him to wait outside the restroom until you fixed your hair and make up, again. You wanted to hate yourself for this, but instead of feeling guilt or regret, you could only feel ecstasy in your veins. This was too good to let go.

As you were leaving the restroom, Scott greeted you with a wide grin, taking you by the hand. “I know this isn’t the exact order of how relationships go, but how about that drink now?” he asked modestly.

“Fine, just let me drop my uniform,” you smiled, rising on your toes to give him a little kiss and disappeared into the staff room.

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codenamewitcher · 5 years ago

Text

Mistress of Death Part Two || Geralt of Rivia

Title: Holy Water Cannot Help You Now

Pairing: Geralt x assassin!reader / Geralt x half-elf!reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Smut (18+)

Song: Seven Devils - Florence & the Machine / Worst Behavior - ALMA, Tove Lo

— ‡ —

The night that I'd met Geralt and the bard Jaskier was a strange one. I'd refused to let them run me off from camp. Yes, they'd saved my life, but I had still sat up camp there before them, and Geralt had agreed. It was that decision that caused Jaskier's face to turn so red it had almost looked like it was going to start steaming. I'd also learned that the wolf pack I'd killed was what Geralt was hired to hunt and kill, I'd told the witcher that I wasn't going to claim the money, that instead he could.

It was before dawn when I started preparing to leave. Geralt had woken up when I'd started packing, first it was silent between the two of us, him just watching me, until he decided to finally speak.

"You could've easily killed all of those wolves with chaos." I knew that his statement had a hidden question behind it, 'why didn't you'?

"I was itching for a fight." I hooked some of my bags onto Sonja's saddle. Wanting to fight was only half of the truth and the witcher knew it. When I turned around to face him again, he was leaning up against a tree, arms crossed in front of his chest, and an eyebrow raised as if saying 'that's a fucking lie'.

"You have no idea on what it's like living under Ramerd Gamward's thumb." I grabbed the last of my bags, the zhefar and arrows, and hooked them to the saddle. I climbed onto Sonja, ready to leave but I paused before I did and turned to the witcher.

"Thank you for saving me."

Geralt grunted in response, but there was something that seemed to glow in his amber eyes. I couldn't put my finger on it but when I reached the road, I knew some type of bond was formed between the two of us that left me wishing to see the witcher again.

It had been four months since I'd met the duo. I hated were I was currently staying, I hated being this close to Vengerberg.

Even though it got drilled into my head at a young age by Ramerd Gamward — who ironically was an elf himself — that neither elves nor humans would want me, I'd pick the elves over humans any day. I understood elves distrust and distaste for humans. It was a human that killed my mother. It was humans that slaughtered hundreds and hundreds of elves.

Even though it was Guleta, it was still too close to Vengerberg, it made my skin crawl and body kick into high alert mode. While I normally did this, I made sure there was no removing my cloak or its hood while I was here, but unlike normal I made sure no one could even see my face. I made sure that I was nothing but a shadow because if one of these humans found out I had elf blood in me, they'd want my head. My identity wasn't the only thing the cloak was covering, it was also hiding the elven bow and arrows, eleven sword, and multiple blades that were strapped to my body.

I found an inn in the outskirts of Guleta, it was shitty but necessary because no one would question whether or not they should let me stay. I tied Sonja to a hitching rail, already smelling the stale ale from inside, I grabbed a bag of ducat coins, and walked in. The smell hit me in the face when I walked in, but I held my composer. The inn was filled with drunken men and some wenches were spotted in some of those men's laps, the floor was sticky with spilled ale, I fought to not make a face in disgust. I walked up to the bar and asked for an innkeeper and it wasn't long after a round man with a face redder than his hair came up to me - he drank too much.

"What do you want?" He placed a large hand on the bar, leaning into it.

"I need a room for two nights and no one bothering me." I toss two golden ducats onto the counter; it was more than enough but I was in no mood to haggle with the man. The coins were gone the moment they hit the counter and a key in its place.

"Upstairs, second to the last room on the right." I grabbed the key and turned to leave when I heard a certain bard singing. I turned my head to his direction and find Jaskier drunkenly singing one of his stories about the white haired Witcher he followed around.

I turned back to the doors and walk out to see if the stable across the street would keep Sonja. I untie her and lead her over to the stables, stable boy sat outside of it playing cards by himself.

"How can I help you?" The boy asked looking up from his game when I stopped in front of him. The boy was nothing but skin and bones.

"Is there a stall available?"

"Yes, a silver ducat for a night."

"I need one for two nights," I hand him two golden coins. "Keep the rest for yourself."

His eyes widen in shock, "Thank- Thank you. Right this way." He got up and lead me to the stalls and stopped at an empty one towards the middle. "Is this one good?"

"Yes."

"I'll leave you to it then." He walked back outside, leaving me alone. I lead Sonja into the stable and started taking my bag, her saddle, and lead off. I pick up my bag once I got everything off her and dug into the bag for an apple. Once I find it, I hold it out for her, and she took it from my hand. Before she leaned down to eat, I stopped her and held her head up, so she'd look me into the eye.

"Behave."

She responded by giving me a huff of air, I shook my head and patted hers. I slung my bag onto my shoulder and left, making sure the gate was latched when I shut it. I looked up into the stall across from Sonja's to find the witcher's mare occupying it. Great.

I walk back into the inn and this time I spotted a head of white hair sitting in a dark, back corner while the bard sang one of his tones nearby. I quickly went up the stairs and found my room, I unlocked the door, and wasn't surprised to find nothing but a poor excuse for a bed that sat in the middle of the room and a little desk was off to the side.

I sat my bag on the desk and untied my cloak. I threw it on the desk and unstrapped my bow and arrows, I sat both on the side of the bed, I laid down on the floor, held my breath, and scooted underneath it. I made quick on strapping the bow towards the edge of the head of the frame, arrows right beside the bow, and got out and up once I felt like they weren't going to fall. I frowned as I dust my back off. I grabbed my cloak and slipped it on, sinking back into the shadows yet again. I picked up my keys, slipped them into my pants pocket, and left the room, locking the door as I walked out.

I wasn't thinking much as I walked and before I knew it, I was downstairs and headed towards the witcher. I didn't know why I was making my way through the inn towards him, but something was telling — pulling — me to go to him, then before I knew it, I was in front of his table.

"I don't want any company." He didn't look up from his mug of ale.

"I'd thought you'd have more of a finer taste in ale, not this stale shit." I leaned up against a support beam that'd connected itself to the bench opposite of Geralt. A smirk formed on my lips when his head shot up at my remark. I knew he could see my face hidden in the shadows of the hood with his catlike eyesight.

"Y/N." He breathed my name out with ease, a smirk played on his lips too at the sight of me. The bond that I had felt four months was back and pulling hard towards the witcher.

"May I?" I tilt my head down to the bench. One of his hands that were wrapped around his mug gestured for me to sit. I slide onto the bench with feline grace and placed both of my arms on the table, clasp my gloved fingers together, and leaned into them. We stared at each other like this for a bit both of us still keeping the smirk on our lips, his eyes almost seemed like they were sparkling as he stared me down.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, finally breaking the spell that we seemed to be in.

"What do you think?" I lean back against the back of the bench, hands still clasped on top of the table, enjoying whatever game it was that we were playing. He hummed in response. "What about you?"

"What do you think?" He shot my response to his same question back at me; this was definitely a game. I let out a low chuckle, a genuine smile gracing my lips and from the looks of it, his too. "How long?"

"A couple of days." I look down as I unclasp my hands and flatten them out on the table, I could almost feel the sexual tension between us on my skin. I fluttered my eyes a bit and looked up to meet his own again. "Why, did you miss me?"

He hummed again. "Just curious."

"Is that so?" I drummed my fingers against the table once. "Wh-"

"Who's this?" Jaskier interrupted me and stood at the edge of the table with his hands on his hips. I tilt my head back just the slightest so Jaskier could see my face, I gave the bard a shit-eating grin.

"Hello Jaskier." I purred out the words to fuck with the bard.

"Oh no, no, no, no. I don't know what's going on here, but no." He shook his finger in my face, I made a biting motion, he quickly pulled his hand back and held it to his chest, I laughed at his reaction. He turned to Geralt, "You must have you lost your damn mind? She's the devil incarnate."

There was a mischievous glint in Geralt's eyes, he just stared at the bard.

"You can't be serious?" The bard gasped.

"Well," I cut in and stood up, standing close to Jaskier, he took a step away. "It was nice seeing you two, but I've got to go." I fix my hood so the average human couldn't see nothing but shadow. "Goodnight Jaskier. Geralt." I flicker my eyes to the witcher, letting him see the playful look in my eyes.

I stepped away from the two and started for the stairs, I swayed my hips as I walked towards my room even though they were covered by the cloak, it swayed with my hips. I felt the witcher's eyes burning into my back, so I turn my head enough for the hood to move with it as if I was looking back at him.

I had gotten to my door and unlocked it when I felt the witcher's presence at the end of the hall. I turned my head to face him to find him swiftly moving down the hall, his eyes pinpointed on me. Once he reached me, I let him push me up against the door, his bright amber eyes were dark with lust, we were so close to each other our breaths were mingling together.

"What are you going to do to me?" I asked, my words dripped with lust. I laid my hands on top of his chest and brought my face closer to his, our lips inches apart, I flickered my eyes to his lips and back to his eyes.

He didn't say anything but placed his hand to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. So close that my lips were brushing against his. I finally kiss him, not being able to handle the proximity that our lips were at. He let out a low growl, deepened the kiss, and pushed me into the door, his knee pushing its way in between my legs, pinning me to the door.

I blindly reached for the doorknob and once I found it, I twisted it open. We both stumbled into the room but fought to keep our lips connected, he kicked the door closed once we got far enough in. I finally broke the kiss for air but he continued kissing me but down my neck as I gasped down air, one hand tugging at the tie that held my cloak in place and the other was gripping the ends of my hair and pulling my neck back so he could have better access to my neck. After I got enough air in my lungs and my cloak pooled at our feet, I turned us around and pushed him onto the bed. My eyes didn't leave Geralt's as I took my jacket and weapons belt off and let them fall to the floor. I moved to straddle his lap and he wasted no time to connect our lips once again. In the midst of our kiss, I started unbuttoning his shirt. When I got his shirt off, my hands started to roam around his chest and arms, his did the same to me but also pushing my shirt up in the process. I broke the kiss to let him take my shirt off. He's hands pushed down on my hips grinding me down on him, I bit my lip to hold in the moan.

"Stop biting your lip." His voice smokey as his thumb dragged my lip out from underneath my teeth. I held eye contact with him as I took his thumb into my mouth and sucked. I released his thumb after I was satisfied when I felt him get harder underneath me.

I rolled my hips down on him as I leaned in, brushing my lips on the shell of his ear, "Fuck me."

As if a switch flipped in him, a growl rumbled through his body and then he flipped me over, he nipped at my collar bone and undid the wrap around my breast. They met air but it did not take long for him to take a nipple into his mouth, he sucked on it a little and then moved to the other. The blast of cold air on it in contrast to his warm mouth caused me to moan, I could feel a smirk forming on his lips against my skin.

He moved away from my beast and grazed his teeth against my neck. "I'm going to ruin you."

His naturally low voice got darker with lust, another wave of pleasure pooled down at my heat. I gripped his hair, one hand pulling at the tie that held his hair back and the other pulling his head back so I could look him in the eyes. "Do it then."

"With pleasure." His smile was filled with sin, he moved down my body, his hair slipped through my fingers. His nose and lips danced across the skin of my abdomen. His fingers danced as he undid the laces on my pants, he started tugging at the waist and I lifted my hips up so he could pull them off. A loud thunk was heard when my pants, undergarments, and boots hit the floor due to the multiple knives there were strapped to or hidden within the clothes. He raised an eyebrow as if he was saying 'really', I smiled in return and sat up. I looked up at him as my fingers fumbled with the laces on his own pants and placed a kiss on his abdomen while still holding eye contact. When I got the laces untied, he pushed me back into the bed, and was already on top of me before I could sit back up to watch him strip. He grunted, fire in his eyes as he said, "I'm ruining you, not the other way around."

His lips brushed my legs with feather like softness. My back arched off the bed with his feather like touches and he took that as his opportunity to slide an arm underneath my back and he placed his other on my hips, holding me down. He bit the inside of my thigh, so close to my heat that I let out a quiet whimper, his glowing amber eyes flickered up to me and held my gaze as he licked a stripe up between my folds, a moan slipped from my lips. "You're so wet." He tutted and pressed a finger at my entrance as his tongue circled around my clit, my fingers gripped the sheets, it had been way too fucking long since I felt this kind of pleasure. Without a warning, he pushed his finger in me, so painfully slow, I bucked my hips up to try to get him to go deeper, but the arm that was behind my back was quick to move at pushing my hips back down. His tongue pressed down on my clit and he added a second figure, stretching me out while his fingers fucked me. I couldn't help the whine that I let out as I pushed my head into the pillows and squeezed my eyes shut, I needed to be fucked now.

"Geralt," I panted as his fingers sped up and I gripped his hair. "I need you now."

He pulled away from my heat, crawling his way up my body oh so slowly. He continued his torture by brushing his lips across my own. "Is that so?"

"Yes," The word was barely a whisper, but by the way his amber eyes flared, I knew he heard it. In a blink of an eye, his lips connected with my own. I could taste myself on his tongue and by the time I was fully detracted with his lips, he slowly sunk himself into me, causing me to gasp for air and him to groan. I sink my nails into his shoulders looking for a release due to the bliss. Once he was balls deep, he pulled out and slammed back into me again.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He grunted, burying his head in the crook of my neck and bit my skin as his hips fell into a steady pace and my legs wrapped around his waist. The pain from his bites and pleasure from his dick filling me and pounding into me was so overwhelming it was hard to think; all I could seem to do as he attacked my seizing body was moan and claw at his back. I could feel him as he pushed against the knot that was slowly forming in my stomach, every stroke brought me closer and closer to the edge.

"Ger... Geralt," His named was broken up by moans, I clung to his body.

"I know, wait." He grumbled into my skin, his forehead pressed into my shoulder, I tangled a hand into his hair. His pounding sped up and a hand slipped down between our bodies, one of his fingers pressed down on the swollen bud of my clit and made hard circles, I clenched around him as another wave of pleasure crashed down upon me. "Now."

The demand was all it took to send me over the edge, I screamed out in pleasure. He watched as I fell apart underneath him, my walls clenched and unclenched around him causing him to growl and bring him to his own release. My walls milked the witcher as ropes of his hot come shot deep inside me.

He fell on top of me after he finished and groaned in my ear, "Fuck."

Our chest pushed against each other as we came down from our highs, I closed my eyes and pushed my head down into the pillows, basking in the afterglow. After we both caught our breath, Geralt rolled over, pulling out of me as he did. I exhaled at the feeling of being empty of him and my body feeling heavy from the ecstasy I had just experienced.

A moment and then Geralt turned to face me, propping his head up on his arm so he could look down at me, he brushed a piece of hair away from my face. His chest was shining with sweat and I knew I wasn't any better, I was still taking deep breaths as I looked into his golden eyes which sparked with mischief.

A smirk ghosted his lips, "You know, not all of us are spoiled assassins that get the luxury of drinking expensive ale."

"What?" I laughed. He grabbed my hand, his thumb messaging my palm, a smirk played on his lips.

"My taste in ale."

"Ah," I laughed yet again, my heart felt like it was blooming with joy, something I hadn't felt in years. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face and while it felt strange, I didn't want it to leave. "You should feel honored."

He raised an eyebrow, now smiling. "Oh really, why's that?"

"Because I haven't smiled and laughed like this in a hundred years."

A chuckle rumbled through his chest; his hand now cupped my face. We laid like this in silence for a bit, just starring at each other, enjoying the rare moment of happiness we shared. It was then that I decided I had to protect this happiness and despite wanting to stay in this sunshine like feeling forever, I knew I had to change the mood between us in order to keep this same ray of light I found protected.

"Whatever it is you're doing here; I'd get out of town in two days." I say in the silence, hating that I took away the light and airy feeling around us.

He grunted and sat up and started moving to the edge of the bed, his back to me. I closed my eyes and took a breath trying to calm the empty feeling spreading back into my heart.

"I'm serious." I spoke so softly that Geralt wouldn't have heard the words if it wasn't for his enhanced hearing. "My target is going to cause the city to go into high alert and they'd think you to be the murderer." His body whipped around, his eyes burning into mine, his eyes squinting into a glare.

"Who?" It was more of a command than a question. I move to get out of bed, but his hand clamped down on my wrist.

"I can't t-"

"Who?" He cut me off, his voice darker with the demand.

"The Duke of Eysenlaan." I whispered low enough that only Geralt would hear, I didn't need any wondering ears hearing who it was.

He clenched his jaw, "Why?"

"I don't know." I looked away from him and towards the ceiling trying to blink away the tears. I hated not only the tears and the way my voice cracked at those words but also because Gamward shut me out on this one. He'd always given me a reason as to why I was killing someone, it gave me a peace of mind knowing that it was evil I was killing and not someone good, he'd known this. Not knowing why I was killing the Duke for tore at my insides, for the first time not trusting Ramerd’s intentions on this kill.

Geralt's hold on my wrist loosed and disappeared altogether, the silence killed me. I was terrified to look into his eyes. I felt the bed shift, but I didn't dare to look towards him, not wanting to see him leave. I let out a gasp as he started to pull my body towards him and wrapped his arms around me, my eyes widen in shock, this was the very last thing I'd expected him to do.

"What did he tell you would happen if you didn't follow his orders?" I felt his chest rumble along with his voice against my skin, I turned away from him.

"You don't want to know."

"Tell me anyways." I took a breath and told him everything, the amount of torture and pain that Ramerd had promised if I didn't do as he said, tears slipped down my cheeks. Geralt's arm tighten around me when my voice cracked from telling him the horrifying details. I could feel the anger rolling off him once I finished telling him.

After my confession, my body and mind were tired. And I was tired. So tired of this life. But for some odd reason, Geralt's arms around me brought a comfort to me that I didn't know I needed until now.

— ‡ —

When Geralt had first seen the assassin that night, he couldn't explain the pull his heart felt towards her, almost as if something had bound the two together, the bond hadn't stopped pulling at his heart until he had pulled her up against her door; his head pounded with thoughts of fucking her, as if he was under a spell. And now, all Geralt could think about as the assassin slept in his arms was four months ago when she'd uttered the words, 'you have no idea on what it's like living under Ramerd Gamward's thumb.'

She was right, he had no idea. He knew he had no idea when she'd said those words, but the reality of those words didn't hit him until she'd confessed the promise of torture her master gave her if she didn't complete his request.

'Her master.' Those words burned him with anger. It made him want to squeeze the life out of the man that had not only taken the life from others, but the life from the girl that lay in his arms.

The witcher knew when her voice broke while telling him she didn’t know why Gamward wanted her to kill the Duke, this normally didn’t happen to her, and that it tore at her not knowing the reason she was about to kill someone.

So once Geralt finally feel asleep, a smile found itself on his face as he dreamed about taking Ramerd Gamward's life and freeing Y/N from the bastard.

— ‡ —

Masterlist

There will be a part three! Idk when because I have to start preparing for a conference that’s in two weeks, but there is a third part in the works.

Geralt Tag: @alwayshave-faith

Tags: @pippin248 @american-duchess @agentdedf1sh @didi0666 @ayamenimthiriel @a-dorky-book-keeper @boiblunder @stretchkingblog97

If I missed anyone, please let me know. Also if you want to be added, let me know!

Also I’ve only written smut once and that was YEARS ago, so I apologize if this was complete shit.

#geralt #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt smut #geralt fanfic #the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher imagine #the witcher smut #geralt x assassin!reader #geralt x halfelf!reader #geralt z rivii #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader

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cle1024 · 5 years ago

Text

save me, save you | hhj

member: hwang hyunjin

genre: angst, fluff

summary: getting involved with the mafia was certainly not something you aimed to do in life―it was something you would’ve gratefully avoided, you much preferred breathing and living peacefully. yet, somehow, meeting him made the danger worth it. mafia!au, gang!au, fem!reader

warnings: mentions of murder, violence, drugs, swearing

a/n: so uh,, i know nothing about saving someone’s life or fixing up a stab/bullet wound, and i also wasn’t taught much about human anatomy, so there WILL be inaccuracies in the medical scenes. i apologise in advance and i guess this is a cringe warning for anyone who is actually educated on those situations, i dropped out of science so can’t relate. i started this not long after miroh dropped i could just never be bothered to finish it until recently, but third hyunjin fanfic in a row here we come!!!!!!

There was no doubt in your mind that Felix Lee was your best friend and always had been.

The two of you grew up near one another, subsequently attending school together for the majority of your lives. It was the third day of school when the freckled boy approached you, tanned skin and dark hair, but a bright smile and sparkly eyes.

“My name is Felix, let’s be friends!”

“Okay.”

Life by Felix’s side was enjoyable, content. Life was normal. And so, when Felix broke the news that he was moving to South Korea, you were understandably devastated. Though, you knew how much it meant to Felix: getting more in touch with his culture, family, and pursuing his studies more seriously and competitively. Nonetheless, despite all the pain and upset you felt, you supported his decision and maintained contact with him.

That was six years ago when Felix left. Now, you’d both graduated from high school, Felix had acquired a stable job (that’s all he would tell you about it), and you were applying for an international studies program. You had no interest in the program initially, but your local universities had less than stellar resources for the course you wanted to study, and your teachers had constantly reassured that you were smart enough for a more prestigious institution elsewhere in the world. That and the fact the program meant your tuition would cost much less. You hadn’t expected to be accepted into the program, nor did you expect to receive a letter from the prestigious Seoul National University accepting your enrolment, yet you sat there with the printed letter in front of your awestruck face. It was only natural that you immediately text Felix—you told each other, almost, everything and he lived in Seoul, this could be the reunion you’d joked about when he first left.

| so i got accepted into seoul national university | but i don’t speak good korean | lix: LMAO ME NEITHER HOLY FUCK

Twelve months had passed since that message was sent. Your were almost fluent in speaking Korean, you much preferred just listening to it and speaking English with Felix. A sigh escaped your lips as you trudged to your apartment door, exhaustion racked your body from the unbearable demand of studying medical science. You tried to convince yourself it would pay off, but you weren’t certain yet. Perhaps when you sit your exams you’ll find out. Exams. Why did you have to think that up? It drew a small groan from your mouth as you shoved the key into your apartment door, prepared to fall face first into the couch and complain to the air. Though your desires could not be fulfilled. Sitting on the very couch you intended to fall into was Felix, twirling a swiss army knife twirl around his right fingers as he watched his phone intently. There was also a gun on the coffee table. Someone’s gun was on your coffee table. You had a lot running through your mind, many questions and minor concerns about why the fuck Felix had illicit weaponry in your house, but all you managed to say was, “oh.” The boy obviously hadn’t heard you come in, his head snapping up and his fingers halting their twirling. Looking in your eyes, he felt obligated to tell you everything.

“That means I’m, basically, part of the mafia,” he paused to lick his lips, “we don’t sell weapons to the wrong people or kill for money. It’s more about… corruption and the occasional cocaine,” he summed up gently. You could definitively say it was the wildest fucking thing Felix had ever said to you, and you’d had some pretty odd conversations at two in the morning. As far as you knew, his job was stable and high paying, but you didn’t know it was completely and utterly illegal. Most sane people would flip their shit in this situation, cut off ties with Felix and shove him—along with all his weapons—out of the apartment. You didn’t react that way, and you weren’t sure whether it was because you were far too open-minded or because you had slowly lost your mind over time and become desensitised to any sort of shocking news.

“Oh.”

Felix chewed on his lip as you processed the information, clasping and unclasping his hands. He prepared for the worst, but you simply shrugged, “okay.”

Felix was beyond bewildered, “y-you’re not mad? Or scared?” Your eyes softened at his questioning.

“Felix, why would I be mad? It’s your life, do whatever you want with it. Your job doesn’t change the fact you’re a freckled sook who cried when you made your ramen too spicy.”

“Okay, that was one time,” you laughed at his defensive expression and that was enough to break the facade completely. The two of you laughed for a little while until Felix’s face returned to a more serious expression, “Y/N, I promise you, you’re in no danger whatsoever. The golden rule in this district is to leave innocent people out of it, regardless of how much someone fucked you over. If anyone, and I mean anyone, does anything that alarms you or threatens you, you call me right away. Understand?”

A soft smile stretched across your face at his concern, “of course I will,” Felix breathed a sigh of relief. If anything happened to you, especially at the fault of his job, he’d never forgive himself. To him, family came before his own safety; you were his unbiological sibling and he would always protect you as best as he could.

It was all fine and dandy until someone broke that rule. Your eyes stung with exhaustion, the bright screen of your laptop glared at you as you tiredly read the words displayed on the screen. There was nothing you craved more at the moment than sleep; you seemed to be craving that a lot since you came to Korea. At first, you thought the distant sound of a doorknob being wobbled was one of your neighbours. It was a Friday night—or Saturday morning, you supposed—they’d probably gone out, got shit-faced and stumbled back home, having forgotten how to unlock a door. But then the noise stopped, a door squeaked open and was gently shut. You heard the door click back into place, and that’s when things started to feel off. It sounded too close to be next door—now that you thought about it, neither of your neighbours would even be out at this time. Perhaps it was Felix, he had often complained about how shitty the door to your apartment was. With a stretch of your arms and legs momentarily you pushed yourself from the bed, creeping towards your bedroom door. The cool metal of the doorknob brushed against your skin, seconds away from being opened when a series of crashes sounded from the small living room on the other side of the door. Felix may be clumsy, he may sit up too quickly and hit his head on tables, but he rarely managed to break anything in the process—if he did then the sound was followed with a string of English curses, but cuss words never came. You were starting to believe it was Felix. With all the courage you could muster, you opened the bedroom door and stood shocked at the scene in front of you. A vase lay broken on the floor—crash one. Your white sofa had been tipped backwards, the cushions scattered the floor. The coffee table had been overturned, candles left strewn on the floor. Your porcelain plate, which had previously sat by the sink, was attempting to escape the kitchen in hundreds of pieces—crash two. The wooden shelving unit diagonal to your bedroom had been tipped over, all your picture frames smashed into dangerous shards of glass—crash three. The chest of drawers near your bedroom door had been left untouched for the time being, a photo of you and Felix at seven years old perfectly intact. In the midst of chaos, a man stood with a black ski mask covering his face. All you could see where his ominous brown eyes, staring right back at you. It felt like you were staring into a dark pool, full of mystery yet devoid of emotion or sense of reality. It seemed to happen in an instant; one minute you were standing there in an intense stare off, the next you had been shoved against the wall of your living room right next to your bedroom door, your phone falling from your free hand in the process. His glove-clad hand wrapped securely around your throat, the pressure of his fingers increasing to cut off your air supply once and for all. You clawed at him, but you already knew it was no use. He was twice the size of you, had the upper hand, and had already weakened you significantly. You’d already accepted that you were destined to die at some point, everyone was, but you’d always secretly prayed that you’d get to say goodbye first. You didn’t want to leave without telling your parents you loved them, or telling your friends back home that they were some of the greatest people you’d ever met, or just saying a simple ‘cya’ to Felix, as you always did. Felix. The memory struck you like lightning as your vision started to spot slightly. When he confessed to you about his career, made that promise of protection, he had purposefully left something behind.

“Take this,” Felix said as he held the swiss army knife towards you.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“If you ever need to defend yourself and I can’t, for some reason, use it.”

You’d made the wise decision to hide it in your living room, behind that picture of you and Felix. If you could stretch your arm just a little further, you could grab the red covering. Your fingers strained as you held out for the weapon, head lifting up as your vision worsened. The sharp metal tickled at your fingers, causing you to desperately snatch the weapon up. You used all the coherence you had left, swiftly flicking the knife out of the plastic covering. Your vision was blurred, severely, and you could feel yourself losing consciousness. Just a little longer. With all the strength you could muster, you brought the blade upwards, taking no notice of where you stabbed him. A grunt left his lips, followed by some choked gasps. His hand unlatched from your neck to grab his own. You fell to your knees, wheezing for oxygen desperately, taking deep breaths as you coughed and gasped. Your eyes traveled downwards, catching sight of the red. There was blood all along the knife, staining your fingers. The man lay ahead of you on his back, blood spilling from his throat as he twitched and choked up the metallic substance. It was all over the floor around him. You could tell you’d caught an artery. In desperation, you tugged the purple hoodie from your shoulders, holding it against the man’s open neck wound. It seemed to get harder to breathe, even without the hand working to restrict your. Hands shaking, covered in the man’s crimson blood, tears streamed down your face. With the absence of your purple hoodie, now stained with the blood of someone else, the cold air nipped at your exposed skin. There were some red smears on your once white singlet. Why was there so much red? The shaking of your hands only worsened as you crawled to sit against the wall, hand reaching for the cellphone you’d dropped in the commotion. You only needed one person right now. The phone didn’t ring for long.

“Y/N, what’s up?” Felix spoke calmly through the phone, blissfully unaware. A sob forced up your throat as you tried to talk.

“F-Felix, I killed someone. Oh, God, I killed someone,” your voice came out between broken sobs. You could imagine Felix standing up in a panic, gathering his shit and furrowing his eyebrows.

“What do you mean? Where are you?”

“I-I’m at home, someone came in and I didn’t know what was happening and I-I stabbed him, Felix I sta-”

“Hey, take a deep breath, okay? I’m on my way right now, don’t move,” you nodded in response, knowing fully well that Felix couldn’t see you. Mumbling an okay, you ended the call.

Felix gently pushed open the door, ushering in the others. Chan, Minho and Changbin had insisted on coming along with Felix, worried someone else could be lurking and waiting for Felix to enter your apartment block. The apartment was in disarray: furniture tipped, photo frames shattered, a plate thrown carelessly like a toy. A body surrounded by blood, and Felix’s childhood friend sitting against the wall behind it, shaking. The purple material of your hoodie was stained, noticeably so, laying across your legs haphazardly. Felix rushed forward, crouching to your level and pulling you into his chest. The others watched from a few feet away, uncertain of what to say or do.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” Felix cooed as sobs wracked your form. He swayed you gently, petting your hair to calm you down. The youngest turned his attention towards the other boys once your sobs quietened slightly, “Minho, can you take Y/N back down to the car? We’ll be down in a minute,” Minho nodded silently, gently walking towards you to scoop you up in his arms, the hoodie remaining bundled up on your legs. Neither of you said a word once you entered the car. Minho peeled the cover up from your lap, slightly gagging at the toxic iron scent of the blood. He gently take your hands in his as he washed off as much blood as he could with a white cloth and water bottle. Your mind was evidently elsewhere.

Chan and Felix returned to the car ten minutes later after thoroughly searching for stolen possessions. Chan filled Minho in on the details, hoping you’d gain some closure from hearing them, “he was from NCT, had some silver bracelets and their wallet shoved in his bag. Changbin called Woojin, they’ll put everything back in place,” Minho nodded softly as Felix opened up the car door on your other side. The car starts as Felix takes one of your hands in his, the red stains faded to a lighter tone. You seemed to take no notice, staring blankly at the car’s console in front of you.

It was late, or early depending on how you see it. Red lines illuminated in formation of the time, 3:36am. The car had pulled up in front of a dark house in a quieter area of Seoul, yet still off one of the main roads. You concluded that it was only quiet because of the ungodly time, otherwise there would be cars cramming the streets, honking left and right. Chan exited the car first, purposefully closing the door gently to not alarm or shock you, Minho following suit. Felix opened his door, tugging your hand gently to encourage you to leave the vehicle. It was as if you were on autopilot. Blood splattered legs moved on their own as the green hoodie Minho had leant you protected your arms from the chilling night air, Felix’s arm slipped around your waist to support you as you walked into the house. He noticed that Woojin’s car was missing from the street; he wondered how long it would take Woojin and Changbin to fix up your apartment. As you stepped foot inside the quiet house, it revealed itself to be much larger than you initially thought. The kitchen was furthest from you, a spiral staircase to the right that led you both upstairs and downstairs, a hallway that trailed off from the left side of the living room. The living room was cozy and inhabited by two boys packing cocaine. Lovely.

“Hey ma- what the fuck?” The smaller of the two, a brunette boy with chubby cheeks, spoke as he raised his head to greet the returning members. The other boy, with lighter brown hair, almost a dirty blonde, mirrored the other’s confusion. Neither had expected to see a random person with bloody hands, legs and absent eyes being guided through the house by Felix. The freckled boy didn’t stop to greet them, immediately guiding you upstairs to wash off in the bathroom. The two boys immediately understood the severity of the situation, but they still craved for answers.

“NCT went after them. All they did was defend themselves from death,” Chan spoke firmly, his eyebrows slightly curved in a mix of sympathy and fury.

Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed, “but we don’t go after innocent people?”

Chan huffed in response, “clearly NCT had other plans. Where’s Seungmin?”

“Basement. Jeongin’s there too,” Hyunjin spoke as he turned his attention back to the white substance on the coffee table. Chan nodded firmly before leaving, Minho falling onto the empty couch across from the two boys to stretch his tired limbs. Hyunjin sat with furrowed eyebrows, staring at the table intensely.

“Hyunjin, you good?” Minho questioned in concern.

“Yeah, just… something feels off about this.”

Jisung huffed a laugh, “well, yeah, NCT just broke a golden rule.”

“That’s the point, why would they?” Jisung had suddenly lost interest in the business transaction being organised on the table, Minho sitting up in curiosity. Hyunjin flickered his eyes to the staircase momentarily, “you know how anal they are about maintaining that rule. Taeyong made the damn rule after…” Hyunjin trailed off as all eyes lowered solemnly, no one wanted to utter her name. They all knew how much it hurt Taeyong when she was murdered, everyone was hurt, shocked. There was no reason to bring up old pain, “why would they break it now?” Minho tilted his head as he wandered over the possibilities, Jisung put his focus back on the white substance with a sigh.

“Whatever the reason, Chan will make them pay,” his nimbled hands continued with his previous work, “no fucking doubt.”

Chan stood as Taeyong entered the cafe, bowing and shaking hands before sitting down again. It was better to meet in a public setting, less likely for emotions and irrationality to get the better of anyone involved. The older ran a hand through his fiery red hair in frustration, “what happened?”

Chan lowered his voice cautiously, “Felix’s friend, Y/N... one of your men tried to kill them this past Friday.”

Taeyong moved forward in his seat, leaning his elbows on the table with narrowed eyes, “what are you talking about?”

“Ji Hansol broke into their apartment and almost killed an innocent person. One of your men broke the golden rule.”

“Where is he?” Taeyong was evidently furious; that rule was the one thing he drilled into his employees’ minds.

“Dead. It was either him or them.”

Taeyong shook his head in disbelief, “if they hadn’t have already killed him I would’ve done it myself,” he paused abruptly, eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement, “wait—Ji Hansol?” Chan nodded, “how is that possible? He’s meant to be in China.”

Chan mirrored Taeyong’s look of confusion, “then what the hell was he doing here?”

Taeyong sighed, “as suspicious as it looks, I swear on her life that NCT was not behind this in any way. I’ll get the documents to prove he wasn’t meant to be here, I’ll help you get to the bottom of this, I’ll do whatever I can,” his voice softened significantly, “no innocent person deserves to die.”

Lee Taeyong, as intimidating as he could be, was truly a weakened man. Behind the eyebrow slit, dark narrowed eyes, fiery red hair and commanding presence, he was a grieving lover, a leader of men who could die under his call. Chan knew he hadn’t lived the same experiences as the older, but he understood the fear that plagued him. The fear of losing everything, everyone—the only difference was that Taeyong had already experienced that when she died. Seulgi had done such a good job at keeping Taeyong together, but in doing so she became the only thing that could tear him apart.

No one had a clue as to why you were targeted to begin with. NCT had proven their lack of involvement, none of Chan’s gang — which you’d come to know as ‘Stray Kids’ — had done anything to provoke Hansol, and he clearly wasn’t here to give an explanation. Seungmin had spent weeks researching the man, with the occasional help of Jeongin when he wasn’t at school or using an innocent childlike facade to coax information. After just over two months, Seungmin had finally found out what happened. During that time, you hadn’t left the guest room unless it was absolutely necessary. Felix and Changbin had returned to your apartment the day after the break-in to collect the belongings you’d need most desperately; none of them wanted you returning to the apartment until there was an answer.

Seungmin’s chair swivelled around to face Chan and Taeyong in the doorway, “Voler.”

“What?”

“It’s French for ‘steal’ apparently,” Seungmin gestured his pen towards his desk, “it’s also the name of a huge hitman and robbery scheme across Asia. It’s believed to have stemmed from the Yakuza, but nothing’s confirmed. Our dear Hansol happened to be a loyal member.”

Taeyong shook his head in disbelief, “I-I don’t understand, how could he betray us like that?”

Seungmin sighed softly, “it paid very high, mainly because the stakes were so high. That doesn’t matter though, we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands now,” Seungmin’s hands sifted through the scattered information on his desk, a small noise of triumph leaving his soft lips once he retrieved the piece he was looking for, “they’ve got a base in Ilsandong-gu, Hansol was stationed at that specific base-”

“Which means they were more likely to have involvement in Y/N’s robbery,” Chan voiced earning a satisfied nod from Seungmin. The curly-haired man turned to Taeyong, “you in?”

Taeyong eyed the younger two momentarily, “without a fucking doubt.”

Woojin grunted slightly as he supported Hyunjin with his left arm. They all knew the dangers this mission presented, but none of them quite preempted severe injury. Everything had been going to plan; Changbin sniped the first man who presented himself, Minho snuck up on the second, then all hell broke loose. There was blood everywhere, gunshots whizzing past barricades left and right, it was pure chaos. Hyunjin had been grappling with a rival member, trying to gain dominance in order to reach for the gun abandoned beside the two. He had almost reached it when the other forced a knife through his abdomen towards the upper right of his belly button. Changbin took the chance to shoot the perpetrator in the head after noticing the situation, desperately signalling to Woojin. Soon, all of SKZ were alerted of Hyunjin’s state, covering Woojin from gunfire as he half-dragged half-carried Hyunjin out of the warehouse.

When you heard the door burst open, the last thing you expected to see was a groaning Hyunjin leaning on Woojin for support. You saw the blood staining his shirt, pouring from his abdomen, causing your stomach to churn and rid of the desire to eat the sandwich you’d just made. You hardly knew Hyunjin, or Woojin, or any of SKZ except for Felix, but you knew where your morals lied. If there was a man bleeding out in front of you, you’d do everything you could to save his life. There’s no denying that you didn’t have extreme confidence in your medical ability, at least in terms of operating on dying people, but you put that aside in the moment. You knew how the human body worked and how to save it, all you had to do was not fuck up in the process. Instantly, you snap into action, trailing behind Woojin towards their designated medical room. The only time you’d entered the room was when Felix forced you inside so Woojin could properly check the bruises on your neck. You had taken notice of the lack of anesthesia or oxygen masks to be used in desperate situations—Felix had once told you that Woojin always patched them up, but he also told you that no one had ever been fatally wounded.

Woojin’s panic was evident in the way he hastily laid Hyunjin down on the operating table, eyes darting around frantically. With quick steps, you moved beside Woojin, “get a cloth or something to put in his mouth, it’ll muffle the screams,” the older nodded quickly. You turned your attention back to Hyunjin—he was paler than usual, sweating and groaning, his condition was only worsening. As soon as Woojin had shoved the cloth in his mouth you proceeded, ordering him to hold Hyunjin down to the best of his ability. You were glad Woojin was strong; Hyunjin would be in a hell of a lot of pain. Hyunjin’s neck tensed as you placed a hand on the knife’s handle, grunting slightly at the movement. You took a deep breath, laying a hand on his abdomen for support as you removed the knife from him as quickly as you could. A pained scream tore from Hyunjin’s throat, guttural and haunting. The cloth had done little to muffle the sound. Your hands applied pressure to the wound, frantically working to halt the bleeding before it was too late, all the while Woojin promised he would treat Hyunjin to a free meal if he got through the pain.

Hyunjin’s chest raised up and down peacefully as he slept in the white bed of the medical room. After screaming and groaning his way through the process of getting stitches, he haphazardly downed a glass of water before falling asleep. You found it difficult to monitor whether the boy had made it or not due to the lack of heart monitor, the peaceful sounds of his breathing would have to do for now.

“I can’t thank you enough, Y/N, really,” Woojin spoke warmly. You’d have previous assumptions about the mafia and gangs, mainly based on Hollywood flicks that dramatised the career choice, but the nine boys seemed to throw those all out the window. Woojin had a nurturing and calming presence, Felix was playful and giving, that Minho guy who’d fixed you up that night was quiet and respectful. To be fair, the rest of them could have entirely fit the stereotype of the mafia, you just hadn’t interacted with them enough to find out. After the events that brought you here, you decided it would be best to just stay out of the way and keep to yourself—both for your benefit and theirs. You didn’t want to interrupt what they had going on and you didn’t want to interact with anyone. With a polite smile you nodded your head, unsure of how to respond to Woojin.

Chan stood in the doorway as you laid the damp cloth on Hyunjin’s head. Two days had passed since the stabbing and you’d devoted all your time to helping Hyunjin—you figured it would be a good way to repay them for letting you stay here, and you were the most qualified to do so. Hyunjin wanted nothing more than to get back to work but his body simply refused. Exhaustion wracked his limbs when he was awake and every time he attempted to sit up, let alone stand, his head felt like a bowling ball and weighed him back down. He’d fallen asleep not long ago, before Chan came to check on him. You weren’t aware of the older’s presence until he spoke up, startling you into a flinch of fright.

“Thank you for doing this.”

You half-smiled at him, “it’s okay.”

The male sighed gently before walking into the room, the click of the door shutting behind him sliced through the room’s air. You felt his presence beside you as you refused to meet his gaze—he was far too intimidating even by just standing there, “I’m sorry you got dragged into all of this,” his voice was gentler than before. Soft, calm, genuine—he probably wouldn’t fit the stone cold stereotype set by Vito Corleone in The Godfather, “we’ll figure out a safer place for you to go, but, in the meantime, just let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. I truly am sorry that you got dragged into this.”

You turned your head in order to meet Chan’s gaze. It was soft, genuine, and almost broken. You got the feeling that he didn’t enter this lifestyle willingly, that he knew exactly what it was like to suddenly be affiliated with a lifestyle you had little to no prior knowledge about. Chan wasn’t here by choice, but he stuck by it. He followed through with what fate served him and he built an empire from it, he found a family to live through the darkest of days. You admired that more than he could know, “I will. Thank you for what you’ve done.”

Chan didn’t voice it, but he saw your arrival as a potential opportunity. You were familiar with medicine and how to properly patch someone up after they receive a life-threatening injury. Rather than losing two fighters when someone is injured, surely it would be better to have a designated nurse who could stick to the job, instead of forcing Woojin to rush through life-saving surgery in order to make it back to a mission in time to drive everyone back to the house. Chan knew it was a desperate deal, stupid and selfish in all honesty, but your arrival could’ve been a long-term blessing in disguise. After all, Chan’s life had been largely riddled with bad luck, perhaps karma had finally taken mercy on him.

At least a month had passed since the incident—you really had no concept of time in this place—and Hyunjin was slowly, but surely, recovering with no sign of infection. You’d also seen his bare abdomen one too many times at this point since he insists on being shirtless―he avidly insists “it’ll be easier than fucking up my shirt.” Aside from monitoring his recovery and trying not to stare at his perfectly sculpted abdomen, you’d began to form a good bond with Hyunjin during your time together. You never talked to him until the incident, mainly because you never had a reason to leave the room you were staying in, and you couldn’t deny you were slightly mad with yourself for not conversing sooner. He was entertaining to talk to, a little bit of a drama queen sometimes, yet intelligent and open-minded. Hyunjin had a good mix of personality traits, you slightly envied him for such. Surely conversing with someone like yourself was bland and repetitive.

Of course it was unbeknownst to you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth; Hyunjin had taken an interest in you since you began caring for him. All he had known about you prior to your care was that you and Felix had been good friends for a while, you were studying at university, and your shit got rocked by someone you didn’t even know―it was an unfortunate turn to say the least. The fact it happened to you made Hyunjin curse the forces that caused it; there was no reason for you to be dragged into this kind of unforgiving, inescapable lifestyle when you had a heart of gold. He could vividly recall the conversation that prompted the revelation, it must’ve been two or more weeks into his recovery.

“I assume you study nursing or something, right?”

“Medical science, but close enough,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

“Why medical science instead of becoming a doctor or something?”

“We all die one day, I’d rather help find a cure for something than force people to suffer through it slowly.”

Hyunjin hadn’t known how to respond to that, so he didn’t, but it resonated with him. The whole reason he’d joined the business, this kind of inescapable lifestyle, was to earn enough money to pay for better treatment for his mother. He got close, really damn close, but he just didn’t get there in time. The first non-business phone call he got was to inform him about his mother’s passing, he hadn’t received another since.

It was evident to Hyunjin, and every other member, that you were incredibly smart―a fact Felix would boast as if it was his own. Your skills, mainly in the science field, could come in useful to the gang: you had a good medical understanding, knew which chemicals could do harm or hinder a person momentarily. Chan was intrigued by your abilities and more than willing to take you on board, but no one ever joined without the approval of every member. Gaining such had been a difficult task, with Felix insisting that he didn’t want to see you hurt or in harm’s way―his mind quickly changed when Jeongin asked “wouldn’t it be just like a sleepover?” Hyunjin wasn’t as easy to persuade. He didn’t share the fact he was hesitant, but he didn’t need to. It was written all over his symmetrical face.

Truthfully, Hyunjin had grown a little too close to you during his recovery, obliviously until he had a startling epiphany. You were the last thing he saw when he fell asleep, the first thing he saw when he woke up. You cared for him more than yourself, it was evident in your under eye bags and weight loss ― to the point where he had refused to eat unless you were eating with him. When he looked at you, the evening sunset highlighting you perfectly and your hair unstyled, yet sitting neatly on your head, he knew he was in deep. Regarding his feelings, he had two concerns: whether you felt the same way, and whether Felix would be accepting of his feelings and approve him as a candidate for your love; he didn’t need the added possibility of you fucking dying to become the third concern. At the end of the day, he supposed it didn’t matter. Felix would never want anyone to hurt you, and even if he didn’t intend to, Hyunjin knew he would inevitably end up doing so.

When Chan proposed for you to join their gang, you were hesitant to say the least. For you, there was no desperate situation in which you needed cash quickly, no reason to put yourself in harm’s way. It was dangerous, Chan admitted that to your face, but he promised you consistent protection and a position that didn’t include staring down the barrel of a gun.

“Y/N, you’ve been here for four months already. How many times have you been hurt?”

You didn’t like his persuasiveness, or the fact he was right. Since you moved into their guest bedroom you’d felt safer, no longer feeling eyes follow you or whispers of your name in the middle of the night. There was a small part of you that wanted to decline the offer, return home to your apartment and never look in the eyes of Chan or Hyunjin ever again. Of course, that was only a small part of you. Although you hated to admit it, you knew you’d never be able to return to that apartment. Not without seeing the blood all over again, feeling the breath leave your lungs or hearing unexplainable noises elsewhere in the apartment. With a soft movement of your head, you agreed, “okay.”

Chan smiled with a strong nod, he was fond of you after all, as were the others in the group. It seemed that everyone was in support of the decision, especially your freckled friend who beamed as he exclaimed, “it’ll be like an eternal sleepover!”

“That sounds like a nightmare if you’re involved,” Seungmin deadpanned, but his stoic expression was quickly replaced by an amused smile at Felix’s pout. Though, everything wasn’t as it seemed. Hyunjin, as much as he wanted to be, wasn’t excited. You joining the gang ― regardless of whether you would be in the middle of the action ― meant seeing you everyday. Seeing you everyday meant realising how much he admired you. And admiring you meant he would only fall deeper. How could he tell anyone that, though? Such an objection would send a rift of embarrassment, discomfort, awkwardness through the house; everything would fall. There was no time for silly crushes. All he could do was admire you from afar and ache every time you walked away from him, completely oblivious to how he felt. When did he become so weak? Hyunjin didn’t like feeling vulnerable, and that’s exactly how you made him feel. With a soft sigh, he decided it would be better to just stay away.

It was a solid plan―for a month, until Hyunjin was injured again in a trade gone wrong. If he was being completely honest with himself, which he recently was not, the constant thought of you kept him from concentrating during the trade. He felt so out of it, blocking out the sounds of his non-biological brothers yelling as a bullet whizzed towards him. No, all he saw was the way you looked so ethereal in the light, the way you would always be just out of reach. All he could think about with you, there was no time to consider the scars being etched in his abdomen. Faintly, he could feel the burning in his chest, Chan’s arms dragging him away as bullets rang out from Changbin’s position on the roof. He didn’t register being put in the car, or Chan demanding he keep his eyes open with a hand pressed tightly against his chest. He could feel his feet dragging slightly as Chan and Woojin dragged him inside, the sight of Hyunjin’s pale face and bleeding chest forcing Seungmin, Minho and Jeongin to abandon their intense game of uno.

“Oh fuck, fuck, shit,” Chan and Woojin couldn’t find the time to scold Jeongin’s language, too concerned with the dying boy in their arms. Jeongin’s feet pounded up the stairs, throwing your door open and tugging you to the first aid room. The confusion on your features transformed to gut-wrenching worry as soon as you caught sight of Hyunjin, his shirt off and a cloth being stuffed in his mouth―you couldn’t tell whether it was Minho or Woojin who was holding him down while the other gathered the necessary equipment, everything seemed to blur as you jumped into action. You’d found someone willing to sell you, an unlicensed medical student, anesthesia, but it was due to arrive next week―just your luck. Chan’s hands clamped on Hyunjin’s legs, Seungmin turned away to avoid the gruesome sight, Jeongin lingered by the door.

“I’m sorry,” the words came out as a whisper as you took the scalpel from Woojin, slicing across where the bullet had entered. The entry hole was too small to get it out safety―who were you kidding, you weren’t even sure if you could get it out. The cloth only slightly muffled the pained groan Hyunjin let out, gosh, you wished that anesthesia could’ve come sooner. Screams of agony tore from his throat as tweezers worked to remove the bullet, the writhing of his legs causing anxiety to rise in your chest.

“Keep him still,” Woojin ordered. One sudden move and you’d live with the crushing guilt of knowing you let Hyunjin die. Hyunjin seemed to vaguely register Woojin’s words, opting to tense his muscles rather than squirm away from the pain. Seungmin covered his ears with a solemn expression while Jeongin looked away in discomfort, the shrill cries continuing. It was close, too close for your liking, to hitting Hyunjin in a fatal area or embedding deeply in his chest.

“I got it,” you mumbled as the bloody metal was dumped in the dish beside you. Woojin ushered everyone out of the room, Hyunjin’s screams of agony downgrading to groans.

“Give me a call if you need anything,” the oldest closed the door behind him. You heard the front door slam open and shut with frantic footsteps, marking the return of Felix, Changbin and Jisung. Words were calmly and indistinguishably spoken by Chan. Though, it didn’t matter what he was telling them, your priority was making sure Hyunjin wouldn’t cease breathing. His eyelids were fluttering shut from exhaustion, an action that would flare alarm in your chest.

“Please, don’t fall asleep.”

The cloth was removed from his mouth when it was over, your hand raking his hair away from his sweaty forehead, ridding of the uncomfortable sensation. A sigh passed your lips, voice soft as you spoke, “you need to stop making a habit out of this,” it was directed towards Hyunjin, but you weren’t sure he heard it.

Hyunjin wanted to respond, something flirty he could blame on his disorientation and pain, but you were already urging him to down some bottled water. As you cleaned the utensils, Hyunjin allowed his eyes to flutter closed, whispering a gentle “thank you, Y/N.”

Time passed without your acknowledgement; had it been weeks, months? It all blended together, you couldn’t be certain. Hyunjin was close to recovery, but not quite there. Frankly, you were getting tired of his occasional complaints about not “being in action”. Part of you hoped he’d stay out of action if it kept him safe, but you knew that wasn’t an option in this kind of lifestyle. The roots of his hair were coming through, the dirty blonde darkening to have a light brown tone instead. It was the little things that were becoming noticeable as you spent more time with him; the moles on his face, the way the sun seeped through the window and reflected so clearly in his eyes. He sat on what was referred to as the ‘operation table’―except it wasn’t padded and was likely meant for veterinarians―as you searched for mild pain medication. When you turned around, you couldn’t help but take a moment to admire him. His head was turned away from you, gazing wistfully out the window, the setting sun illuminating his honey skin in rays of golden sunshine. He looked like a statue from Greek mythology, sculpted by the Gods to embody perfection, frame marked with the scars of a warrior. They littered his abdomen, one from the stabbing, one from the bullet, one on his lower back that Woojin had patched up for him before you came ― it was obvious in the way it was majorly faded. A sigh passed the male’s plump lips, looking down at his fidgeting hands before looking up at you. If only you knew what he thought about you. How he felt you were incomparable, the finest piece of art to ever be masterfully painted. The oversized white shirt you wore contrasted your glowing skin and hung around your figure in an unfitted, yet still accentuating, manner. It wasn’t quite long enough to hide your blue pyjama shorts from sight. You approached him quietly, holding out the painkillers and a glass of water. Pulling yourself on the table, you sit beside Hyunjin as he downs the painkillers and watch the sunset. He glances over at you curiously, gulping down a mouthful of water, “you seem to be pretty good at saving lives, why aren’t you a doctor already?” A light laugh passed your lips.

“Because I’m not studying to become a doctor, and I haven’t spent, what? Nine years studying?”

“It takes nine years to become a doctor?” Hyunjin’s eyes almost bulged out of his skull. You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Something like that,” a comfortable silence settled between the two of you, watching as the sun swam closer to the horizon, “besides, I don’t think I’d be able to handle the pressure of saving someone’s life.”

A chuckle sounded from Hyunjin, “you say that, yet you’ve saved me from death twice.” You grew silent, he looked at you knowingly. The thought had never crossed your mind, you didn’t want to consider the possibility of Hyunjin dying―you didn’t want to imagine any of them dying, Hyunjin was the only one who’d come close so far.

“Yeah, but that’s… different.”

“How is it different?” Hyunjin looked towards you with a quirked eyebrow; you often wondered that too. You refused to look at him, too afraid of spilling all your secrets with one glance―but they came out in whispers, regardless.

“Because… I can’t live a life where you’re dead.”

The words almost slipped by him, blending in with the light breeze swirling outside, but he caught them. In one sentence, Hyunjin had the answers to every question that’d swarmed his brain since the week after his stabbing. There was no hesitation in his actions, cupping your left cheek in his hand and turning your face towards him. The sun glistened in your eyes, highlighting the enchanting colour of your orbs, shadows danced lightly on your face. In that moment, he wanted you to know that you wouldn’t lose him, no matter what. His eyes fluttered shut as his head dipped down, fulfilling the dream he’d chased since you first saved him. Your lips pressed together in a warm embrace, melting together as if they were made for each other. His tongue swiped at your lower lip, asking for access that you granted. As the sun rays of gold heated your skin and framed your soul, Hyunjin swore he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

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ghosttotheparty · 4 years ago

Text

cotton candy skies always look better in person

7. also on AO3 chapter six

They never really said it was a date, but they don’t really have to.

Jesus, it was perfect.

The perfect mix of awkward and comfortable, and Jens’s face felt perpetually red, his ears and cheeks hot, his neck warm under the button down, which he’d dug out of his closet just for last night, even ironed it when his mom was still at work so she wouldn’t ask questions. He felt like a middle schooler going to his first school dance as he looked at himself in the mirror, attempting to smooth his hair.

And he didn’t miss the way Lucas’s eyes skimmed over him as he approached him outside the alley, or the way Lucas licked his lips slowly before smiling and reaching up to touch his collar, which Jens thought he had straightened.

Jens had the same nervous flutter in his heart and stomach as he asked to hold his hand, the same feeling he had when he asked if he had any plans for the evening.

He also almost couldn’t stop smiling last night, almost beaming at the cashier after she asked, “Is there anything else your boyfriend wants?” (He knows they’re not official but it’s a nice thought.) He almost giggled when he saw Lucas’s doodle of him, almost wanted to ask to keep it. (And he would, would pin it to his wall above his bed or desk. He’d fucking frame it if he could.)

But Lucas shoved it in his own pocket as they left.

So oh, well.

Jens picks his skateboard up as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, smiling again as he reads a message from Lucas.

I’m bored, save me

He tucks his skateboard under his arm and stops n the sidewalk, stepping to the side as he types.

uhmmm… draw something pretty?

He opens the gate to his apartment building, the same place he’d stood last night as Lucas leaned up and kissed his cheek. Twice. Honestly, Jens did think that Lucas was going to kiss him, actually kiss him, and couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed when he didn’t, but the feeling disappeared as he felt Lucas’s lips press softly against his cheek, smiling again before he kissed him a second time. Lucas’s soft “I’ll see you on Thursday,” made him open his eyes and after saying “Bye,” he watched Lucas walk away, down the sidewalk, feeling like he was in a shitty, low-budget romance film. But it was fine.

Jens makes his way to his door, pulling the board to his chest to avoid hitting the walls of the narrow hallway. The hall is a little dingy, and dim, most of the light coming from the flickering lights on the ceiling and sunlight coming in through windows at the end of the hall. Before he got the barre installed, he hadn’t wanted his friends to come over because of it, because of how shitty the building is. He’d been worried it would make him look like he was a different class, a different level of life, that maybe it would drive a barrier between him and the guys.

He reaches for the door handle, holding his phone up as it buzzes and feeling his face flush as he reads Lucas’s message.

I’ve already drawn you

He grins, his face lighting up like the phone screen as he passes the threshold, replying :D.

“I’m back!” he calls, stepping into the living room, adjusting his grip on the skateboard so it doesn’t scratch the walls. His face is still flushed slightly, flighting a small smile by biting his lip.

“There he is!” a man’s voice says, and he looks up, the smile dropping off his dace, the thought of Lucas and any texts from Lucas dropping from his mind. The old man is sitting on the sofa, a hand on the coffee table next to Lotte and her homework, strewn across the table as she sits on the floor, not looking at Jens as he walks in. The man is smiling broadly, deepening the wrinkles on his face.

“Hi, Grandpa. Mom, can I talk to you for a minute?” Jens asks flatly, dropping his arms so the board is at his side, and he steps into the kitchen, hearing a sighed “Yeah,” like she was expecting it.

He leans against the counter of the small kitchen, huffing as he lays his head against the cabinet, waiting until she steps in, her slippers padding softly on the floor, and shuts the door behind herself.

“What the hell?” he asks, getting straight to the point.

“Jens, I know, he just showed up, I—”

“Last time I saw him, I hoped I’d never his face again, and I come home and he’s in the living room doing math with my sister?”

“I know you don’t like him—”

“A text. A warning, that that asshole is here, would have been nice, you know.”

“Jens, I know you don’t like him.” She presses her fingers to her temples, shutting her eyes.

“No, Mom, I don’t like him. I really don’t like him.” He’s speaking quietly, practically hissing at her.

“It’s just a few days.” She drops his hands and looks up at him, looking helpless. Hopeless.

“Is that what he said?” Jens doesn’t believe it.

“He said he needs a place to stay.”

Jens scoffs, looking away, his brows furrowing.

“He’s got plenty of fucking money, why is he here?”

“I don’t know.” She sighs. “Just— be nice. Please.”

“I’m supposed to be nice?” He steps closer, the words slithering out of his mouth. “You’re telling me I’m supposed to be nice to him.”

“I know, I just—” Her hands are holding her face.

“Mom, he fucking—”

“Jens, that’s enough.” She holds her hands out between them, her palms facing him, and Jens’s mouth snaps shut. “It’s just a few days. Okay? Be patient.”

He takes a deep breath, glaring at her.

“Fine.” Before she can move to the door, he continues. “But if he lays a finger, a finger on Lotte, you won’t ever have to worry about him again.”

There’s a beat of silence before she sighs and opens the door, leaving, and Jens opens the cupboard behind his head, rummaging through the contents, searching for bags of crisps and other snacks, which he stuff into his backpack.

After rubbing his face, collecting himself, and sliding the bag back over his shoulder, he steps out into the living room, giving his grandfather, Dilan, a tight smile as he looks up. Jens drops his skateboard at the door.

“Lotte, why don’t you do your reading homework for now?” Jens’s mother says gently, and Lotte nods, quietly stacking her papers neatly and setting them to the side. Jens sits on the small sofa opposite to the one Dilan and his mom are on.

“What have you been up to?” Dilan asks, his voice thick and raspy, a sign of the cigarettes he smells of. His hands are on his knees, rubbing absentmindedly over the brown material of his pants. There’s a tiny sense of relief as Jens notices the absence of the thick gold band that was around Dilan’s finger last time he saw him.

“Just…” Jens shrugs nonchalantly. “School, skating with my friends. Hanging out with Lotte.” Jens sees her smile softly at her homework.

“You still doing that ballet thing?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am.” Jens stops himself from huffing, disappointed that Dilan had arrived at the topic so soon. Jens would rather avoid the topic completely.

“Huh.”

Jens glances at his mom, who is watching Lotte work, her face tight and posture stiff, like she’s bracing herself.

“Thought that would be a phase.” Dilan laughs and Jens presses his lips together, tilting and shaking his head.

“Nope, not a phase.” Drop it, drop it, drop it.

“Well, that’s unfortunate.”

Okay.

“I have homework,” Jens says, standing up and clapping his hands.

“Oh, why don’t you do it in here? We can have a homework party,” Dilan says, leaning over and gently tapping Lotte’s shoulder playfully. She cringes, shrugging her shoulders and moving away.

“I have to focus,” Jens says, watching Lotte until her shoulders drop. “Sorry.” He gives another half-smile and leaves to his room, shutting his door behind himself and throwing himself onto his bed after dropping his backpack to the floor. He groans quietly into his pillow.

Almost five years since he last saw Dilan, and Jens still felt the same way about him. All the disgust, all the resentment he’d had for him when he first saw him still bubbles up every time he thinks about him. A quiet How could he? in the back of Jens’s head when he thinks about what Dilan did, when he thinks about how Dilan left Jens’s mom, abandoned her and her mom, and came back only when Jens’s grandma had passed, his timing conveniently matching the timing of his ex-wife’s passing, the death of the woman he’d cheated on and then left with a young child. He came back when Jens was old enough to remember, skipped out on Jens’s mom’s entire childhood, every birthday and graduation, and her wedding.

That alone was enough to make Jens’s blood boil.

But added to him coming in and complaining that five-year-old Lotte didn’t make eye contact with him, that she wouldn’t hug him, him coming in and commenting on the ballet, telling Jens that he should join a “real sport,” that dancing is for pussies, him telling Jens’s mom that Jens and Lotte would be better off if she went and found a man…

It makes Jens feel like a volcano before eruption.

Not to mention the slap across the face that Jens had gotten before Dilan left, for telling him “dancing isn’t fucking gay,” after about the twelfth time Dilan had said it was. The slap that came with the sting of the cold metal of his run, a red mark on Jens’s cheek nearly blending with the blush on Jens’s cheeks as his face flushed with anger and humiliation as Dilan scolded him and told him to be respectful.

The slap that was apparently a parting gift, because he left the next day and Jens didn’t see him for another four years. Not that Jens is complaining. He’d gladly go another twenty years without seeing his face.

Jens wastes time in his room, changing his jeans into leggings and stretching on the floor before going through a short combination ar the barre, opening a bag of crisps he’d taken from the kitchen, as he lays on his bed, a leg hanging off the edge, swinging.

He sits up as the door opens, pushing himself against the headboard of his bed as Lotte walks in, turning around to close to the door quietly with both hands. Jens folds the crisp bag, closing it so Lotte can’t smell it, and tosses it to his bedside table.

“What’s up?” he asks as she turns back to face him, looking at the floor.

“You don’t like Grandpa.” She tugs at her sleeves, toeing at the ground with a foot.

“I’m not the biggest fan of the guy.”

“Why?”

“He wasn’t very nice to me last time I saw him.”

She’s quiet for a moment, her mouth twisting as she analyzes the wood of Jens’s floor. Her fingers twist around the edge of her sleeve.

“Why was he mean to you?” Her voice is quiet.

Jens crosses his legs, laying his head back as he looks at her.

“He wasn’t really trying to be, he was just telling me what he thought.”

Lotte takes this in, and he brow furrows as she frowns. She sighs, not saying anything else, and continues twisting her fingers on her sleeve and her foot on the floor.

“What is it?” Jens asks, sensing that there’s something more.

“Will you play for me?”

He smiles gently.

“If you bring it to me.”

She lifts her chin and smiles brightly, her eyes still on the floor, and her hands let go of her sleeves, flapping in the air as her shoulders hunch. She turns to pick up Jens’s guitar from the stand by his desk, carrying it carefully to him and he takes it.

“What do you want to hear?” He waits as she thinks, running his fingers down the strings as she climbs onto the bed across from him.

“I don’t know.”

“What colour?”

She crosses her legs, rubbing her sleeves between his fingers, her eyes trained on the fabric as it moves. She takes a few slow breaths before answering.

“Blue.”

He nods and moves his fingers to the fretboard, pressing down as he strums once, and pauses, looking at her until she nods, her eyes now watching Jens’s hands on the guitar.

He strums again, over and over, changing chords, every strum slow and gentle, until he’s played through a full song, and then he plays another. He plays until Lotte is smiling, her fingers still rubbing the fabric of her shirt, until she’s rocking back and forth happily, and he can feel the bed moving with her. He smiles, even though she can’t see it.

And then he keeps playing.

#sorry this took so long #youll have more lucas content next chapter #also this kind of diverges from the canon? but its fine i guess #love u #van der stoffels #van der stoffels fic #vds #vds fic #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #lucas vdh #jens and lucas #jens x lucas #wtfock #skam nl #cotton candy skies #cotton candy skies always look better in person

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despressolattes · 4 years ago

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CONSEQUENCES | CHAPTER EIGHT | LEGACIES/THE ORIGINALS

BOOK THREE IN THE SIDE CHARACTER/LILAH SERIES

book one masterlist » book two masterlist

this book’s masterlist

< previous

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In his state of half-consciousness where he kept drifting in and out of being awake, Roman was able to mumble the address of the apartment complex he had been staying at. Lilah cursed herself softly as she drove with him, trying to figure out when she lost her mind as to go against something the Mikaelson siblings were doing.

Sure, in the past, they had their arguments about situations, but she had practically made a statement to them with her latest decision. It was like she was choosing Roman over always and forever.

She pulled her car into an empty spot on the street in front of his complex, pausing as she looked at him, barely awake in her passenger seat.

"Which room?" she asked softly, hearing his light groans as he got to his feet. He blinked a few times, trying to keep his eyes open.

He mumbled which one to her, and she struggled trying to figure out which direction it was in. When she made it to the door, she asked, "Keys?"

"Front pocket," he said softly.

She cringed, feeling slightly uncomfortable as she dug through his front pocket for his keys. She got the door open and got him inside, letting him go when she got to his living room. He leaned over, laying down. She looked down at her arm that had been holding him up, noticing blood that she hadn't noticed before. His back must've been cut up, which means her car seats needed a cleaning.

She sighed and wandered around until she found the bathroom, going inside and washing her arms. She opened a few cabinets before finding towels, grabbing one so she could get Roman cleaned up.

Before making her way back to him, she walked into his fridge. She let out a breath of relief when she saw that he had blood bags. She grabbed one, going over to the couch that she also realized might be stained with blood.

That's one thing that sucked about being a vampire that gets hurt with vervain. It takes a bit longer for their wounds to heal.

She got back to the couch, sitting him up.

"C'mere," she said softly, pulling his shirt up and off, discarding it behind her. She sat next to him, having him lean forward as she looked at his back. There was fresh wounds, as if they had hit him with something laced with vervain. She winced, placing the wet towel she had onto it, and he jerked forward at the contact. "I'm sorry."

She placed the blood bag in front of him, knowing how the Mikaelsons were the type to try to drain people of blood. He snatched it from her, his eyes turning red and the veins around them turning black as he drank it up. His healing seemed to kick in with the help of the blood, and she continued to pat the dried blood off of his skin. The vervain marks on his arms were healing, and before she knew it, the wounds closed. He was just left with a back with dried blood.

He sat there in silence, fully conscious now. When she was done and the white towel was now a pink color, she got up. She grabbed his shirt from the floor, going to discard of the two, but he grabbed her arm, pulling her back to look at him.

He looked up at her through his long blond hair, and she could see him swallow as he tried to find the words to say.

"Why did you do that?" he asked her after a moment, the big money making question everyone seemed to want to know. "You probably pissed off the Mikaelsons."

"They'll get over it," Lilah replied. "And I don't know why I did that. Josh said that they had you, and there was a voice in my head that decided I wasn't leaving until I got you out of there."

He let go of her wrist, and she wandered through his apartment, finding his bedroom. She placed the bloodied shirt and towel into the trashcan in the master bathroom, before looking at the picture frame sitting on his bedside table, sitting in front of a teddy bear.

She picked it up, looking at it. It was him and Antoinette, the vampire that Elijah had fallen in love with once upon a time, when the Mikaelsons had the Hollow in them. He had moved to France without his memories, where he met her.

"I'm sorry I lied to you."

She jumped, nearly dropped the picture frame. She placed it back down, looking behind her to see shirtless Roman walking inside, going to his drawer to grab a new shirt.

"Why did you?" she asked. "Why did you tell me your name was Roman Bauer?"

"Because I thought you'd react the way the Mikaelsons had," he replied. "I'm a Sienna, my family's done bad things."

"Join the club, Roman Sienna. I run with the Mikaelsons, notorious for doing bad things," Lilah exclaimed back, sitting down on his bed. He sat down next to her. "Just answer this: did you play a part in Hayley's death?"

Roman looked down, slowly nodding.

A tear fell down Lilah's cheek that she wiped away quickly.

"Greta and Antoinette were my adoptive family. I had lost my family to werewolves when I was little. And Klaus killed my adoptive dad because of his ideology that werewolves were bad, and he had been killing them, but Klaus spared my mom, my sister, and I. When I got desiccated in a cave for fifty years, Greta looked for me everywhere and saved me. So, as time went on, my mom had a vendetta towards Klaus and a hatred for werewolves," he explained.

"And Hayley was a way of hitting two birds with one stone," nodded Lilah. "Cared about by Klaus Mikaelson and a werewolf."

"She wanted to get rid fo all of the hybrids," Roman continued to explain. "She told me that Hayley would go free. That she'd just have a witch suppress her werewolf side. I was told she was going to live."

"But she didn't."

"When I found out my mom lied, I tried to reason with her," Roman explained.

"That's why Rebekah saw you in New Orleans two years ago. Because you were helping Greta."

"She actually wanted me to get close to you," Roman told her.

Lilah's face scrunched up in confusion.

"Why me?"

"A gorgeous vampire about my age that's close to the Mikaelsons without actually being one?" he replied, and Lilah blushed. "She thought you were the perfect entrance into taking Hayley."

"But I never met you."

"I told her I wouldn't do it," Roman replied. "I saw you, Josh, and that witch Davina walking down Bourban street, the smiles on your guys's faces. I heard from Emmett and the other vampires of the constant drama and bloodshed in this town that you guys had to endure for that family. I couldn't be the reason you were apart of more."

"Hayley was one of my best friends," Lilah said, tears still falling from her face. "I helped her through her vampirism transition. I helped her with her boy problems. Did Antoinette know about any of this?"

He shook his head, "Antoinette was happy in France with..."

"Elijah," Lilah nodded, wiping her face.

"Do you blame me? For what happened to them?"

She shook her head, tears still falling down her face as she relieved her grief for Hayley and Elijah after hearing Roman's story.

"No, I don't," she shook her head, and she stood up trying to collect herself. She took a deep breath and looked back at him and said, "If I blamed people for the actions of their family, or even just things they did in the name of family, I wouldn't love the Mikaelsons. I mean... I love the fuck out of Elijah and Freya, and they had killed Davina at one point. There's unforgivable things that the Mikaelsons have done that I have forgiven them for because I love them. I can't just hate you or blame you for something you didn't even do, I can't just write you off like that. It wouldn't be fair."

Her phone rang, and she looked at it to see it was Davina calling.

"I have to handle this," Lilah said to him, and he nodded. She walked out of his room into the living room, placing her phone to her ear. "How much trouble am I in?"

"We're just trying to figure out where your head is right now, Lils," Davina said on the other side of the line. "Roman's mom killed Hayley, and you barely even know him."

"And Klaus killed Roman's dad," Lilah sighed. "I understand that we all love Hayley, but we also know that people's family does shitty things. Kol forgave his siblings for what they did to you, didn't they?"

"Just stay safe, Lilah," Davina said. "Rebekah's pissed off that you 'dared defy her,' and she's talking like Klaus."

"It's okay, Bex will calm down eventually," replied Lilah, not scared for herself. Even if Rebekah was mad at her, Lilah knew Rebekah couldn't kill her.

"Is this boy worth it?" Davina asked her. "You just met him."

She looked at the hallway, the answer leaving her mouth before she could even think about it, "Some voice in my head keeps telling me he's one of the good ones."

She walked back into Roman's room after she and Davina hung up. Roman looked up at her as she ventured further into him room.

She looked back at his bedside table, picking up the bear that was next to the picture frame. She held it in her hands, something about it so familiar yet so foreign. She closed her eyes involuntarily when she grabbed it, seeing a glimpse of of a fuzzy image.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Tonight, you stay on the call with me. We just talk tonight, and you can stress about everything, but in the comfort of your own room," a distorted voice said.

She was looking down at a computer screen, but unable to make out who was on it as she laid down comfortably on her bed, in a room she didn't recognize.

"Thank you," she said. Her hand reached for something, and she the only thing she could recognize in whatever she was seeing was the teddy bear, moving one of the arms to wave at the camera. "Bear and I, we miss you."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Where'd you get this?" she asked.

Roman stared at it, blinking a few times with a dumbfounded expression.

"Honestly?" he asked, grabbing it and looking at it with furrowed eyebrows. "I have no idea."

He shrugged, brushing it off and reaching over her to put it back behind his picture frame.

"Are the Mikaelsons going to find you and stake you for helping the enemy?" he questioned her, and she shook her head no.

"Don't worry about me and the Mikaelsons. I'm included in Always & Forever."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

She got home late, leaving Roman after she was positive that he would be okay. When she walked into her bedroom, she nearly had her third heart attack of the day when she saw Lorelle sitting there, in the dark yet again, but this time, on her bed.

"What the hell?!" she whisper yelled. "Why do you keep breaking and entering into my places?!"

"I'm your mother, Lilah Rae, I can do as I please with your places," responded Lorelle.

Lilah rolled her eyes and scoffed, closing the door shut. She would be lying if she said it didn't strike a chord in her heart to hear Lorelle call herself her mother, or for her to refer to her as Lilah Rae.

"You haven't been my mother for over a thousand years, don't start now," Lilah grumbled, standing against her door as she eyed the woman. "What do you want?"

"Our conversation was cut short earlier when you went to save your little boy toy from your aunts and uncle," responded Lorelle.

"He's not my boy toy."

Ignoring her disdainful attitude towards her, brushing it off like it was nothing. "I don't really know what you want to discuss, Lorelle."

"You. Us. What your life was like," Lorelle responded. "How you became a vampire."

"What my life was like?" questioned Lilah, trying not to shout and wake Josh. "Gee, mom, my life was horrible, thanks for asking. Constantly on the move, constantly without freedom, constantly wondering what a parent's love felt like. And I had that with Freya for a sliver of a moment before I got my childhood stripped from me and became a vampire. Then I was desiccated for a few centuries, and when I finally worked up the courage to be close to my father and his family, he gets ripped away from me. And the past two years are really fuzzy in my head, and right when I start to see photos with some girl I don't know, you show up out of the blue."

"What girl?" Lorelle asked.

Lilah huffed, wondering how that was the only part of her rant that Lorelle fixated on. She stomped towards her dresser, pulling out a picture frame and shoving it into Lorelle's face. "This one! This girl who is in so many photos with everyone I love, and none of us even know her name."

"None of you remember her?"

"No, and I'm starting to wonder if you and your vampire-siphonerness had something to do with the memory loss," Lilah accused. Furiously, she asked, "Why was I found in Mystic Falls, Lorelle?"

Lorelle blinked a few times, holding the picture frame, speechless at Lilah's whispered outburst.

"I don't know what to say, child—"

"I am not a kid, I'm over a thousand years old!" Lilah exclaimed, squatting so she was in Lorelle's face. She huffed and stood up, backing away from the siphoner vampire. She ran her hairs through her hair, tugging on it as she tried to calm herself down. She opened her bedroom door, motioning for Lorelle to leave. "Thanks for the mother-daughter bond, I have to sleep now."

Lorelle quietly got up, and before she made it past the threshold, Lilah grabbed her wrist.

"Oh, and you better not out our secret to the Mikaelsons. I doubt they'd be pleased with you to hear that you hid Elijah's daughter from them twice."

Lorelle looked at her, analyzing her face after she made the threat.

"You sure got that Mikaelson rage with a bit of Julson stubbornness, that's for sure."

"Weird, I'd like to think I'm all Mikaelson, since they're all I ever knew."

Sadness took over Lorelle's face at the statement, and she walked out of the apartment quietly.

Lilah closed her door, letting her body fall down the wall and to the floor. She sat there in the dark, attempting to catch her breath as her mind processed what had just happened. She knew that it wasn't Lorelle's choice for her to grow up without her, without any of the Julsons, but it didn't make any of this any easier for her. It was sort of like what she assumed Niklaus had felt when they found his father, a feeling of attachment and resentment towards the person all at once.

She remembered all those years ago, when Dahlia had finally turned her and then desiccated her, how she had looked for any trace of her family when she came out. Finding the Mikaelsons in the 1500s was difficult with the fact they were always on the run from Mikael, but there was at least whispers in the wind about them. Nothing about the Julson line. Like they had just stopped with her, which she wasn't surprised about really.

Despite feeling guilty about the way she had been reacting towards Lorelle, it didn't stop her from giving her the cold shoulder. At the end of the day, Lorelle Julson wasn't the parent that Lilah had been hoping and trying to get back.

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CHAPTER NINE

DISCUSSION BOARD (answering these in my asks makes me happy hehe)

· most of how roman was really "out of it" despite being a vampire comes from TVD when caroline's dad tortures her and she has marks along her body even though vampires heal, because he used vervain and her mom had to give her blood bags when she and tyler rescued her.

· why do we think lilah feels like she needs to protect roman?

· the bear he has is the same exact bear from aftermath chapter twenty-eight, the one lilah holds when she video calls roman the night before the miss mystic falls pageant!

· lilah and lorelle's dynamic here is very strained. i know that it's kind of "weird" that she hasn't told the mikaelsons who she is or that she just doesn't accept her mother, but if we remember anything from book one lilah, she was very put to herself before she had met hope. she had no desires really to be apart of the mikaelsons, she just liked to watch them from afar. so if it took her a thousand years + hope to tell the mikaelsons who she was, ofc it'll take her even more time to tell lorelle now that hope just doesn't exist.

· what do we think about the white oak coven?

· do we think lilah and freya are going to find a way to bring back elijah, hayley, and klaus?

· people who read this on wattpad have been expressing their want for a "lilah in tvd" type au (which is so fun because this book in itself is already an au hehe) so i was thinking i might write one! it'd technically be book 4, but occur before side character?? but readers have wanted it for a while so lmk your thoughts! she'd be in mystic falls when the originals are there since she follows closely behind her family, and then ofc she'd see stefan and damon who she once had a life with, yadda yadda yadda. katherine was her best friend for a while, so there'd be that dynamic i could explore. it wouldn't be a prequel since in this timeline, lilah doesn't ever meet stefan again or is active in the mystic falls drama, so it'd be a whole separate timeline just with lilah and her story.

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arshinquarantine · 4 years ago

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online shopping

To be honest, I don't really care for online shopping. A million little neurons fire off in my brain when I give someone money and they give me an object instantly. Who I was with, how I looked when I first tried it on, what I felt when I first tasted it, how much of a bargain it was, the feel of seams on my fingers or the weight of deckled pages in my hands, the caution I threw to the winds or the impulse that I permitted to seize me all combine in a few seconds to inject one simple emotion into my simple brain: buying shit feels good. Until recently, online shopping was utterly devoid of any positive emotion for me. I don't like computers, and they particularly irk me when they ask me to punch my credit card number or (worse) save it. I don't like waiting for boxes to arrive or dealing with going to the post office to pick them up or the endless amounts of recycling I'm going to have to do. I also absolutely do not have the time or the will or the discipline to return roughly half of what I buy because I'm picky and women's sizing for anything is a hot mess, so piles of unwanted shit pile up in my tiny apartment taking up valuable real estate. So I generally go out of my way to avoid the whole business of it all.

For the first few months of the quarantine, I lived like a purist, buying only what I absolutely needed to online. Unfortunately for me, I was living in an unfurnished apartment (the sum total of the furniture I owned was a mattress, a shitty dollar walmart desk, and a shittier dollar walmart chair) so I actually needed to buy a lot of stuff and I dragged my feet miserably through it all. It took me weeks to pick out basic white Crate & Barrel plates for my kitchen, another few months before I committed to a bookshelf that held only about a third of the books I own, and far too long to buy a bed frame. The worst crime of all was my sofa; when I think about how many months I lived with only my mattress or my floor to sit on, I genuinely wonder how far my propensity for masochism can truly go. Ordering my groceries online was simply out of the question, I remained staunchly devoted to buying them in store even when I had to wait 40 minutes in line for my turn.

Soon, the early alarming but novel weeks of covid gave way to the later mundane, claustrophobic ones. After a few weeks of regularly working out, I realized that there was no world for me to emerge into with my newer, hotter body. The comfort I got from my group chats and zoom hangouts soon petered out, and I returned to cooking my usual 20 minute weeknight meals. Stuck in a new apartment, in a new city, without a car (I can't even drive so this is actually moot tbh) my world quietly shrunk to the 600 odd square feet of hastily, partially furnished space I could call my own (now shared with a sibling) and a few blocks in either direction. I wore the same clothes, called the same people, walked the same walk, shopped at the same Shoppers, made the same complaints and wallowed in the same worries, and then I woke up and I did it all over again.

And then I decided that it was time for something new, and I've been searching for newness ever since. A "resurfacing" night cream that promised to make my skin brighter. A houndstooth blazer from an online vintage store that fit like it was tailored for me. A monstera plant that unfurled leaf after leaf under my distracted care before I finally succeeded in killing it. A bluetooth speaker to fill my home with the sound of qawwalis my dad taught me to love. The boxes would arrive days, sometimes weeks after I make the actual purchase, feeling more like a gift from an unknown benefactor than something I furtively paid for. I used to dislike online shopping for its delayed gratification, but soon began to covet it for exactly that reason, like the steady cadence of a few minutes of excitement made me feel like I was accomplishing the impossible task of feeling an emotion. A cheap rug. An expensive sofa. Baking equipment. Painting equipment. Exercise equipment. Books about best friendship, books about love, about a dying earth and dying mothers, set in Syria and Detroit, Naples and Busan, some devoured, some discarded, all read in hot pursuit of staving off how utterly dead I felt on the inside. Each box that landed on my doorstep neatly filled a hole in my life, a void that never seemed to shrink.

It felt reckless and frivolous—childish even—to allow myself to keep getting things that would make me happy. It contradicted everything I wanted to believe about myself: that I was unaffected by anything money could buy, able to achieve complete inner peace by simply "thinking good thoughts", and minimalist to my core. How positively pathetic of me, I'd think, to need a "thing" or an "item" to be able to feel happiness. Even as I searched within myself for gratitude at my good fortune, my good health, I often came up empty, and the answers to all my questions seemed for lie, for however brief a moment, in whatever Instagram thought I should buy that week, silently delivered in recyclable packaging, with a return label and a promise of brief delight.

Most people my age, my peers haven't lived through an event as seismic as this. The idea that life being irreversibly changed even after this, that it already has changed feels alien to me, a square peg trying to jam itself into the round hold where my brain used to be. Life as it used to be feels right around the corner, just a week away, just a month away, just a season away, and soon, I tell myself, I will get back the normalcy of buying four americanos in three hours to keep my internet access at the cafe I've been working at, the fun in an afternoon spent mindlessly window shopping, the stupid joy in dancing the night away in a sweet and sticky club, the relief in resting my head against the shoulder of a friend, the discomfort of getting on the subway at rush hour, the ordeal of a 15 hour flight home to see my little sister.

I lost family members this year, and I spend my weekends flitting between my numb grief and a website that sells silk pyjama sets. Sometimes, I don't speak to my father for days, afraid that he might see right through my false cheer. Sending him pictures of the first snow, my meals and paintings seems enough to me. Lately I've been waking up from dreams that range from bad to fully qualified nightmares about my mom's health. I haven't seen her in nineteen months. I ruminate over where I want to live, if I want children, who I want them with, new questions that have cropped up and firmly planted themselves on my brain. I find myself rejecting the companionship of the friends on my phone. I want them here in Toronto, so we can laugh at the past, and marvel at the present, our warm bodies pressed against one another. And I crave the thrill of deep conversation with new people who remain interesting to me for only as long as I know nothing about them. Loneliness seems to run like a thread throughout everyone's twenties, I suppose, and I'm unable to tease out where the disorientation of being 24 ends and the isolation of living in a pandemic begins. But tangled up, they are stronger together and frighten me everyday, and I surround myself with boxes and yet more boxes to ward them off.

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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The same damn hunger (to be touched, to be loved, to be anything at all) (branjie) - writworm42

A/N: Vanessa is the CEO of a hotel chain, in town for the night. When she goes back to her bartender roots, an intriguing guest just happens to catch her eye.

Title from Strangers by Halsey & Lauren Jauregui. For Holtz, who is also a champ who beta-ed and consistently challenges me to be better <3

Before she’d bought the first hotel, before she’d expanded it into a chain, before she’d even thought about getting into the hospitality industry at all, Vanessa had been a bartender. It was how she’d gotten her start, in a way; twenty years old but lying on her resume, mixing drinks and batting her lashes for the patrons of that first little inn, the budget place trying to be bigger than itself with a cash bar stocked pretty much exclusively with vodka, rum, and gin, plus whatever soda was in the lobby’s dispenser that day.

It was funny what you could do with vodka, rum, and a charming smile. What a shitty boss could motivate you to do. So when Vanessa had saved up her tips, took out a loan, saved the slowly-failing inn and turned it around with help from a few friends she’d made with deeper pockets than she’d ever had, it was no surprise that she’d caught the bug. She’d gotten more and more ideas, more and more cash to keep pushing them forward.

Fast forward eight years and business at Mateo Hotels is booming, rocketing Vanessa towards a very comfortable place within orbit of the Top 30 Under 30.

Still, every once in a while, it’s nice to shed the businesswoman persona, reconnect with that twenty-year-old googling how to make a white Russian with milk she’d stolen from the breakfast bar. The twenty-year-old that had brought in a lot of business by herself, because when all you have is vodka, rum, gin, and your own boredom, of course you’re going to start mixing your own cocktails.

Which is exactly how she winds up behind the bar in one of her Nashville chains, taking a break from her most recent inspection-slash-business-meeting to test her skills, make sure she’s still got it. The executives don’t mind–after all, what are they gonna say, no, miss CEO, you can’t make us some extra money with some of the drinks you coined the recipes for? And anyway, it’s not like any of the other staff would know who she is–she’s never been one of those old white ‘from-the-ground-up’ phonies who puts up pictures of herself shaking hands with a mayor in her lobby. So she lets her hair down, shakes it out a little, slides out of her business suit and into a black top like all the other bartenders wear, and starts working her magic.

When she’s mixing drinks, she’s in the zone–nothing can knock her off her focus, take her eyes away from the glasses she’s working on, stop her hands from moving. She’s a professional, after all, and what’s more than that, an artist, hell bent on not just creating a good final product but also putting on a wonderful show.

Usually, at least. Tonight, it’s a little different–because when Vanessa looks up from the drink she’s sliding to a patron, she catches eyes with someone just behind him, a blonde woman who meets her gaze with a challenging smirk and a brief, but all-too-noticeable wink.

Vanessa can’t help but look up and try to make sure the blonde is watching almost every five seconds after that, hoping for an approving look or another wink or just another flash of that gorgeous, red-framed smile. She gets it every time, and within five minutes, she can’t focus anymore–her fingers wind up in a drink by accident, and she makes up her mind then and there that she’s in no condition to keep playing bartender right now.

No, the only thing she wants to do is slide out from behind the bar, lick the flavoured tonic from her fingers, and walk right up to the blonde, who’s still watching with a satisfied smirk.

“Took you long enough.” The blonde muses when Vanessa finally comes up to her, takes the other woman’s cue to sit down next to her. “I was starting to think you’d never get the hint.”

“Oh, I got the hint.” Vanessa licks her lips, suddenly breathless, because the woman is even better up close–Vanessa can tell her skin is soft and smooth just from looking at it, and her face is cool, confident, painted with the smug knowledge of her own irresistibility. Her fingers tap on the table in a mesmerizing, somehow graceful rhythm, and when Vanessa watches them, she can’t help but notice that even though the nails are painted a deep purple, they’re cut short and filed smooth.

This woman didn’t come to play, and Vanessa?

She’s completely taken by it.

“Name’s Brooke.” The blonde’s voice drops to a silky whisper, those perfect hands sliding towards Vanessa’s own, fingertips brushing against hers. “What’s yours, sweetheart?“

There’s a beat, a moment where Vanessa seizes, because a sudden thought flashes through her mind with a sudden risk presenting itself. If she says her name, the woman might put two and two together. While that might be fine, it may also make Vanessa vulnerable - or worse, make the woman feel like she’s got to fuck Vanessa, because otherwise she’s brushing someone important off. At the same time, what’s she going to do, come up with a fake name? It’s a viable option, sure, but if the woman wants to fuck again after, or if someone recognizes her and calls out her name, then it’s all over.

“Vanessa.” She finally decides, her name coming out on the heels of one gasping breath, because fuck it, she’ll take the chance–there’s enough Vanessas in the world, after all, and if the blonde hasn’t recognized her by now, then there’s a low chance a first name will make anything click.

“Your friends gonna notice if you’re gone, Vanessa?” Brooke smiles, leans back a little, because she knows, already knows what Vanessa’s answer is going to be, what’s inevitably going to happen next.

“Don’t you worry about that, sweetheart, I’m just here for the night.” Vanessa licks her lips, and for a moment, she’s almost sure that she can see Brooke blush. But if she did, then she regains her composure awfully fast, because that predatory look comes back in her eyes, gleams with approval and excitement at the thought of her prize.

“Then what d’you say we get out of here, make use of that one night you got?” Brooke purrs, and her hand is back on Vanessa’s, this time gripping it tightly.

“Sounds like it’s about time, baby.” Vanessa smiles. “Let’s go.”

Brooke chuckles a little to herself, gestures for Vanessa to get up from her chair.

“After you.”

–

Vanessa’s overcome with a rare shyness when she swipes the key in her door, lets Brooke into her room. It’s a pretty standard suite–Mateo Hotels may not be a bargain chain, but it certainly isn’t the Ritz, either. Still, there’s something vulnerable about letting Brooke into the space, this space that’s hers but not really. One she hasn’t even unpacked in yet, only dropped her suitcase, because she doesn’t plan on staying for more than the night before traveling back to HQ in LA.

Come to think of it, if it were anyone else, Vanessa probably wouldn’t think twice about the whole arrangement, about what they could gather from the way her room looks like it has no occupants at all. But Brooke is taking her time getting in behind her, scanning the room with eyes that pick it apart, flitting from surface to surface, all around the floor.

“You weren’t shitting me when you said just for the night.” Brooke whistles. “I wish I was this clean.”

Fuck. Vanessa probably looks strange now, uptight or square or something–definitely not the kind of girl someone as confident, as sure of herself as Brooke seems would want.

All is not lost, though; if there’s one thing the industry has taught her, it’s how to problem-solve, be flexible. In the crudest of terms–how to sell a room and make sure someone wants to spend the night in it.

“Y’know, I got in and didn’t have no time to rest.” Vanessa puts on a sigh, closes the distance between herself and Brooke by grabbing the blonde’s waist, stroking her sides. “Ain’t even had time to test the bed.”

“Yeah?” Brooke snorts, but smiles despite herself.

“Yeah.” Vanessa gets up on her toes, presses a light kiss to Brooke’s cheek. “‘S’okay, though. You’re gonna help with that, ain’t you?”

“Not if you keep going with cheesy lines.” Brooke deadpans, but it’s a lost cause–because she’s already gripping Vanessa back, pushing her closer as the smaller woman kisses along her jawline, down to her neck, teasing pecks that make Brooke’s breath hitch already.

Perfect.

“Why don’t you go sit on the bed, pretty girl?” Vanessa pulls back suddenly, a flash of satisfaction running through her when Brooke fails to stifle a quiet whine at the loss of contact. “Mami’s gotta get ready, so sit tight.”

A wink, a little wave, and Vanessa’s off to the bathroom, acutely aware of and perfectly content with how Brooke is watching her as she goes.

Truth be told, Vanessa doesn’t actually have to get ready, not really–she takes off her jacket and pants, untucks her shirt so that it can fall just below her ass. Takes a second to play around with her hair. Mostly, she wants to build the suspense–get Brooke thinking about what’s going to happen, maybe even scheming in her own right. Vanessa can’t wait to see what Brooke is coming up with, almost as much as she can’t wait to see how she can turn those expectations on their head. And when she finally re-emerges from the bathroom, she’s not disappointed.

“My, my.” Vanessa tsks as she walks towards Brooke, who’s stripped down to her underwear and is waiting with a smirk on her face.

“You aren’t the only one who had to get ready, Mami.” Brooke purrs. “But I have to say, I’m disappointed,” she looks Vanessa up and down, her eyes stopping at the hem of the younger woman’s shirt, “seems I’m underdressed.”

“For now.” Vanessa winks, and Brooke laughs, scooting over to make room for Vanessa on the bed.

“Can I kiss you?” Vanessa drops her voice to a whisper, leaning in as she brings a hand to rest on Brooke’s thigh, thumb stroking at the pale, smooth skin.

Brooke doesn’t answer; only brings her hands up to Vanessa’s cheeks, pulls her in to close the distance between them completely. Brooke tastes like lipstick and cigarettes, and the minute Vanessa’s lips touch hers, she can’t get enough. They keep making out even as Brooke’s hands snake to Vanessa’s front, hurrying to undo the buttons of her shirt. Vanessa, for her part, lets her hands travel over Brooke’s sides, nails leaving light scratches that make the blonde shiver. Finally, Vanessa’s shirt is open, and Brooke’s hands are on her tits, and–

Vanessa pulls herself away, and then there’s that whine again, that pitiful, frustrated noise Brooke lets out and that Vanessa wants to hear again and again. Because riling Brooke up, making her desperate–it’s absolutely intoxicating.

“Lie down on the bed, baby girl.” Vanessa orders, but Brooke frowns.

“You’re not–but you–Are you saying you want to top?” Brooke looks down at Vanessa’s hands, at the long, perfectly-manicured acrylics that frame her nails, and it’s cute, really, that Brooke thinks Vanessa wouldn’t have thought this far ahead. So she licks her lips, looks directly at Brooke, and takes each press-on nail off one by one, grin getting wider with every finger.

“Any more problems?”

“No.” Brooke squeaks, looking from Vanessa’s hands to her eyes before the blonde’s face melts into an excited smile. “No problems at all.”

“Good.” Vanessa laughs, leaning down to plant a soft, slow kiss on Brooke’s lips, “That’s what I like to hear.”

Brooke gasps into Vanessa’s lips as the kiss deepens, little sighs and whimpers sounding in Vanessa’s ears as she eases the taller woman back onto the bed, brings her hands to her face and strokes her cheeks with her thumbs. It’s adorable, absolutely addicting, and only spurs Vanessa on further as arousal lights between her legs, her panties already starting to become slick and damp as she continues to play with Brooke, find out what makes her tick.

“Remember how you said you were underdressed?” Vanessa moves her kisses away from Brooke’s mouth, trailing them instead down her neck, licking and sucking over the sharp line of her collarbone.

“Yeah?” Brooke’s voice is breathless, and Vanessa can’t help but giggle against Brooke’s skin because it’s cute, how worked up she already is, absolutely adorable.

“I think it’s quite the opposite.”

Brooke barely has time to react before Vanessa is pulling her up, grabbing her bra and undoing it to replace the cups with her hands, kneading and grabbing and rolling Brooke’s already-hardening nipples between her fingers.

“That feel good, sweetheart?” Vanessa grins when Brooke sighs in relief, leans into her touch. She nods, and Vanessa can’t help but feel a surge of happiness in her chest, because she’s proud of herself, she really is, that she can make Brooke feel so good, make her come undone so fast. And Brooke, for her part, seems to be enjoying it just as much.

“More, please, I need your mouth, fuck .” Brooke grabs Vanessa by the waist, holds her down with a firm grip that makes Vanessa’s skin burn with need.

And Vanessa can’t resist–she leans down, sucks a nipple into her mouth, swirls her tongue around it and grazes it with her teeth, reveling in each tiny gasp or moan the movements elicit from Brooke. And then Brooke’s hands are knotted in Vanessa’s hair, tugging just a little, spurring Vanessa on, and she’s completely gone, unable to hold back anymore.

“Lie back down.” Vanessa kisses her way across Brooke’s chest, darts her tongue over the blonde’s other nipple. “I wanna take care of you.”

“ Please. ”

Vanessa travels down the rest of Brooke’s body with an uncontrolled hunger, kissing and licking and nipping skin without knowing what it is, where her mouth is falling, because she doesn’t care. It’s not important, because no matter where her lips land, they’re on Brooke, and that’s all Vanessa needs.

“So wet.” Vanessa chuckles when she finally reaches Brooke’s hips, slides a hand between her legs to stroke along her slit. “Are you already that horny, baby? Already such a mess for me? Awww, that’s so cute.” Vanessa emphasizes the statement with a flick towards Brooke’s clit, grins when the blonde’s hips twitch in response.

“Please, Vanessa, please, just take them off–”

“Aw, but I’m having so much fun.” Vanessa pouts, resuming stroking over Brooke’s pussy through her panties, adding more pressure little by little. “Besides, I think you could be more desperate, don’t you?” Vanessa brings her fingers to Brooke’s clit, presses down and circles it lightly, and Brooke moans, shakes her head.

“Please, holy fuck, please…”

Well, the teasing was fun while it lasted.

Vanessa takes Brooke’s panties off slowly, one last bit of torture that makes her squirm and whine with impatience before Vanessa finally plants a kiss at the top of her slit, licks along it and around her folds.

“ Fuck ,” Vanessa moans up against Brooke’s cunt, making her shiver, “You taste so fucking good.”

Vanessa kitten-licks around her clit, finally sliding home with just the slightest flick of her tongue and smirking when it elicits a moan from Brooke, her hips bucking and hand once again snaking into Vanessa’s hair. It’s enough to make a flash of heat run through Vanessa’s whole body as she sucks a kiss on Brooke’s cunt, take her breath away as she licks a slow circle around it.

“God, you’re good at that.” Brooke lets out a breathless laugh as Vanessa continues to lap at her pussy, tease her clit.

“Hmm.” Vanessa hums, picking up her pace a little and feeling a surge of pride when Brooke goes rigid, whimpers and moans and presses Vanessa’s face closer.

“You want me to do even better, sweetheart?”

The idea comes to Vanessa’s mind in a split second, but it sticks there, seeming better and better with every heartbeat that pounds against her chest. She slides a hand away from its resting place on Brooke’s leg, trails it down her inner thigh, brings it to her entrance, and she knows in an instant she made the right choice, because Brooke is coming to life, her movements against Vanessa’s face suddenly frenetic and the grip in her hair getting that much tighter.

“Please, want your fingers, please…”

“How many?” Vanessa asks, although she’s already teasing at Brooke’s cunt with two fingers, waiting to push them inside.

“I can take three.”

God, this is gonna be fun .

Vanessa pushes inside with two fingers first, slow and shallow pumps to warm Brooke up and feel her out, find out what makes her tick. As it turns out, it’s easy to find Brooke’s spot–it’s nice and shallow, and the minute Vanessa hits it, Brooke moans, her legs trembling as Vanessa continues to suck at her clit, hooking her fingers over her spot to tease at it all the while. A few more kisses, a few more licks, and she pulls out just a little, adds a third finger amidst babbling pleas to hurry up, more, more, God, please, I need more.

Vanessa’s always been relentless when topping, but Brooke is by far the most responsive girl she’s ever fucked, and it’s amazing, it really is, how loud she’s getting, how much she’s shaking, how hard she’s begging for Vanessa to make her come. And when she finally gets her wish, finally gets pushed over the edge with a final thrust, a final kiss over her clit, her moans are probably the most satisfying sounds Vanessa’s ever had the privilege of hearing. She licks and fucks Brooke through her orgasm, gradually decreasing her pace before pulling out, and when she finally comes back up, licks her fingers clean and pulls Brooke in for a kiss, Brooke is still shaking, still panting, still whispering.

“That was amazing, baby.” Brooke sighs, sated, as she settles back down on the bed, opening her arms for Vanessa to move in closer, nestle into her embrace. “You’re always so fucking good, you know that?”

“Why else would you marry me?” Vanessa winks, and Brooke laughs, plants a kiss on top of her head.

“I liked the stranger game though, it was fun.” Brooke smiles, her eyes twinkling, and fuck, Vanessa could stare at those eyes forever, she really could. Especially now that she’s revisited such an exciting time in her past, a time where she was seeing them for the first time.

“Play it again next week?” Vanessa suggests, and Brooke nods, smiling.

“It’s a date.”

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #lesbian au #smut #writworm42 #tw mommy kink

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satonthelotuspier · 5 years ago

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I'm seeing prompts on your site and does that mean you are accepting them right now? I've never requested a prompt before and I don't know what to do? But if I'm doing it right I'd really like to see 13 for XueXiao from the bodyguard au prompt list? Fluffy or angsty, as you please. Am I doing this right?

OK so Im being obvious, but this contains XueXiao.

Modern Bodyguard AU so none of the complications of canon apply.

Now the disclaimers are out of the way, I have to apologise to the very patient @amaskinamirror bc this took so much longer to write than I expected. The reason being most of my prompt fics end up around the 1k-1.4k word mark and this kept going and kept going because there was a story there. It came in around the 4.5k work mark. Think of it as added value, unless you hate it in which case it’s not ;)

Pompts from this post here

Part 2 now available here

Xue Yang is the enfant terrible of the music world and his manager has pretty much had enough of his shitty behaviour. Features a thorny Xue Yang shaped by the worlds opinions of him, and a hardass yet caring Xiao Xingchen who maybe might just start to see beyond the lies.

Possible triggers/warnings: Also features swearing, man-handling, use of a date rape drug, minor injury and blood. Luckily XXC is there to save the day in all situations.

Xue Yang was woken up from a deep, no doubt alcohol-induced, sleep to the feeling of cold water being splashed in his face.

He shot upright coughing and spluttering and wiping water out of his eyes, trying to process what the hell had happened. The unconscious bodies around him all started to stir and groan back to lucidity.

Xue Yang followed the long line of the leg in front of him up to eventually meet a pair of dark eyes staring down at him without expression.

“What the fuck?” he demanded and tried to get up but someone he didn’t even remember the name of was laid across his legs.

It had been another party. One where they’d drunk hard and passed out before dawn some time; he didn’t know half the people here. That had never stopped him. Being the enfant terrible of the music industry took both time, effort and commitment.

The tall man bent down to extricate him, then yanked him to his feet.

“You have rehearsals in ninety minutes. Get showered, you smell like a brewery” a garment bag was pushed into his hands then he was waved in the direction of the hotel suite’s bathroom.

“Excuse me, but just who the fuck are you?” honestly his head felt a little woolly still from the after-effect of the alcohol he’d been drinking, but he was sure he didn’t know who this man was or what he was doing in his hotel suite.

“Your Fairy Godmother, Cinderella, now go get a shower, you’re wasting time”

Xue Yang grabbed hold of the collar of his jacket, “Don’t bullshit me”

The hand that clamped around his wrist was steel-like, “Your new security. Your manager sends his regards. I won’t tell you to go and shower again”

“Firstly, if you are security you are not my boss, so you can stop with the ordering me around like I’m your little bitch, secondly, you are my security? I’m sure if a duckling gets too close you’ll do a great job, otherwise…” he was going to push the other away, sure because of his willowy frame it would be easy. Quite how he ended up in an armlock and being dragged to the bathroom he didn’t know. He bit his tongue to stifle the cry of pain; no way would he utter the noise aloud. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” he snarled as the other kept going into the bathroom.

“I’ve already explained. I’m not going to repeat myself” the man opened the shower door, pushed Xue Yang into the cubicle and pushed the on button.

Of course Xue Yang never learned his lesson; he launched himself at the other only to bounce off the cubicle door as the other shut it behind him, holding it closed.

“New world order, xiao-Xue, get used to being my little bitch” the other grinned as Xue Yang punched the glass then yelled at the pain in his hand, “Clean up, I don’t want to be forced to come in there and clean you up myself”

***

Xue Yang curled himself up as small as possible on the back seat of the car; he was in high sulk. After calling his manager to demand an explanation of what was going on Jin Guangyao had told him in no uncertain terms he’d better get used to the idea of Xiao Xingchen being around. His new security was not only there to provide for his personal safety after a spate of disturbing mail (more disturbing than the usual run of the mill threats at least), but to whip him into some kind of shape as Jin Guangyao was convinced his terrible behaviour, bad reputation and general personality was about to lose them some very large contracts.

Everyone loved a bad boy in theory, but when it began to affect his ability to make his management company money then they were definitely going to act to protect their asset.

And that had come in the form of Xiao Xingchen, who looked as gentle and fragile as an orchid but who had already handed Xue Yang his ass once today already.

“A-Qing, I need breakfast” Xue Yang whined at his assistant as his stomach rumbled for the fourth time.

“You shouldn’t have upset the new bodyguard then” she mocked him quietly, and he retreated even more, pulling the hood of his jacket up and wrapping his arms around his knees as A-Qing took pity on him and leaned forward to ask the driver to stop at a nearby coffee shop.

They did, and A-Qing and the driver returned with coffees for all and a bag full of muffins.

Lao-Xia, the driver, and A-Qing had been with Xue Yang long enough to not meet his gaze as they started on their own food; Xiao Xingchen had no such warning; he was too busy goggling at Xue Yang who had made his own muffin disappear like a magician with a rabbit.

“Are you going to eat that?” Xue Yang asked, pointing at the baked bun in Xiao Xingchen’s hand.

He simply offered it over; perhaps surprised at the demonstration of the speed at which a muffin could be demolished without trace.

The second one followed the first in quick order and Xue Yang froze as the other reached over to brush the crumbs that had stuck to the corner of his mouth away with a thumb.

“You don’t want the Paparazzi to catch that” he said simply before turning in his seat to look out of the windscreen and sip at his coffee.

Xue Yang curled back in on himself and held his ridiculously sweet iced coffee to his chest.

“You eat too much sugar” Xiao Xingchen told him as Lao-Xia started the car and set off driving to the studio, “You need something to give you energy for the first meal of the day”

“Good luck with that, he functions on pure sugar and supplements” A-Qing mocked and Xue Yang shot her an annoyed look.

***

Xue Yang didn’t know why he was surprised the next morning when he was awoken by a solid shake to the shoulder.

He hadn’t been able to avoid the other to sneak off to party last night so he wasn’t hung over but that didn’t mean he was any more amenable to the idea of waking up.

“Come on Sleeping Beauty, you have to be at your first interview in an hour”

Interviews. His mortal enemy. The thing he hated most in the world. And he was still no better at dealing with them than he had been as a fresh face on the music scene, where the press had crucified him, thrown every painful fact of his past in his face and then painted him as a troubled bad boy with a temper; a role he’d eventually just given up fighting against and embraced.

He threw the blankets over his head; maybe if he just went back to sleep the interview would disappear.

The blankets were thrown back.

“Dude, what the fuck?” he demanded, was he allowed no privacy at all anymore?

“Get up” Xiao Xingchen jerked his head towards the bathroom.

“Fuck off. I’m not going” he reached out to push the other away.

It went about as well as yesterday had for him; he ended up face down on the bed with his arm locked up between his shoulder blades.

“Are you going to learn any time soon? I mean, kudos for persistence but lose points for stupidity. Now, last chance to get up on your own, otherwise I’ll throw you over my shoulder and you can go dressed like that”

Xue Yang wasn’t sure he believed the other was strong enough to actually carry him out of the hotel room, but he daren’t take the chance he might be dragged out kicking and screaming and dressed in his ratty old t-shirt and shorts.

“Fine, yes, I’m getting up. Let me go, please” as a street child he’d learned to beg prettily and it wasn’t a skill he was averse to using if he needed to, to survive. It didn’t need to be sincere, it just needed to sound it, to be calculated to pull on the other’s heart strings.

It didn’t seem to affect Xiao Xingchen, but he was released nonetheless.

***

Xue Yang of course arrived on time for his first interview, (there were three in total scheduled for today), as far as they went it wasn’t particularly gruelling for him, but he was fully aware he was a mess by the end of it; he’d probably come across like he was on drugs, but it wasn’t like that would be the first, second or third time the rumour would circulate in relation to him.

He knew Xiao Xingchen eyed him in consideration, but he ignored it; he didn’t have the presence of mind to survive the next two interviews and worry about what his new security agent was judging him for today.

He was much worse by the end of the second; he had been left alone a sitting room of the hotel the interview’s had been arranged at and he lowered his head into his hands, trying to even out his breathing and calm himself. His professionalism would be questioned even further if he failed to complete the last interview, or screwed up during it.

He felt the couch dip next to him, “Here” he looked up, poison on his tongue ready to be spit at Xiao Xingchen when he realised the other held out one of those large chocolate chip cookies in a napkin. There was also iced coffee sat on the table in front of him.

“Just relax, empty your head, and focus on the cookie” Xiao Xingchen informed him; raising an eyebrow as Xue Yang didn’t immediately accept the confectionery from him.

He took it with tentative thanks; and it vanished almost immediately once he’d decided to accept the gesture. Once he’d gotten the sugary coffee inside him too he felt much better.

***

Despite his trash reputation he wasn’t late for a single appointment over the next weeks; Jin Guangyao assured him it was perfectly alright to project the rebel for the masses but when you played the brat with the people in the business you’d soon be blacklisted; a risk he wasn’t willing to take with Xue Yang.

Xue Yang hadn’t managed to get near alcohol or a party in that time due to Xiao Xingchen’s hawk eyes and iron control.

Since the second morning though instead of being woken up with a bucket of water to the face or bickering the other had started showing up with a sweet pastry and a staggeringly sugary iced coffee which he traded off for Xue Yang eating better at other mealtimes.

Overall it didn’t seem Xue Yang had a moment of time where the other wasn’t somewhere close, controlling everything, keeping a watchful eye out.

And it bothered Xue Yang; he didn’t get used to the feeling of Xiao Xingchen being there like he’d been assured he would. He was still hyper aware of him, and he didn’t necessarily think it was because he was intimidated, despite the fact they’d had a few more altercations, none of which ended well for Xue Yang.

***

He tried to ditch his new security for his monthly visit to the orphanage his charity had built and ran; the less people who knew about it the better. Of course he couldn’t shake the other off so he had to attend followed by Xiao Xingchen, and explain to the children who the tall ge was. He was a great hit with them, and although Xue Yang pretended to be annoyed at Xiao Xingchen getting all the attention that the youngsters usually showered on him secretly he was entertained as he watched the other romp with the rough kids, or play softly with the quieter ones.

“This is the first time you’ve brought a bodyguard” he turned slightly at the sound of Tian Ying, the matron of the orphanage and the woman who’d helped bring him up in a similar institution when he had been a boy had come up beside him. “Are you in danger, xiao-Xue?”

“Of course not” he didn’t consider the crazy mail Jin Guangyao was filtering from him any more of a threat than any of the other mail he’d received in the last few years, and he definitely didn’t want her to worry about him, “They just decided I needed someone to carry my bags for me”

He didn’t have time to say much more as he was dragged into an impromptu game of football in the yard, where he and Xiao Xingchen were on opposite teams.

They played around half-heartedly until a Xiao Xingchen who was grace incarnate except apparently on a football pitch, stuck his foot out and took Xue Yang’s feet from under him and he tumbled. The fall itself wasn’t bad but he was a little grazed as they played on the yard and not grass.

Xiao Xingchen was unusually all apologies and personally saw to tending the grazes Xue Yang’s tumble had caused, despite his assurances he was absolutely fine. The touch of the other still made his pulse flutter in some odd emotion and the way Xiao Xingchen kept glancing up at him, like he’d discovered a rare and new species, was disconcerting. And pissed him off, because he could guess what it was about.

“Just don’t” he said through his teeth so no one around them could hear.

“Don’t what? Congratulate you on what you’ve built here? On what you’re doing for these kids?”

“Yes, don’t. I don’t want to hear it” he sucked a breath in at the sting of the antiseptic where Xiao Xingchen applied it to his grazes.

“Alright, whatever you want” Xiao Xingchen let it drop but he still looked at Xue Yang with something approaching admiration in his eyes.

And it was addictive, to have someone look at him like that, and not like he was trash. But then it had never bothered him before. Was it purely because it was Xiao Xingchen and he wanted to be more than trash in that man’s eyes?

“I guess you read too many gossip rags” Xue Yang sniped, “I’m not on drugs, in any weird cults, or a complete slut either”

Instead of bullshitting him and denying he’d thought anything of the kind Xiao Xingchen agreed instead, “I’m beginning to see that. Of course that doesn’t mean you don’t have a vile temper, that you don’t ever learn your lessons, or that you don’t sulk like a baby when I tell you no”

He was about to make one of his usual responses when the game of football moved closer and he clamped his lips closed on the curse.

There was a knowing, teasing look in the other’s eyes and as Xue Yang looked down into that finely-boned face he realised why the other’s good opinion had meant so much to him; why he was on tenterhooks whenever Xiao Xingchen was near, which was all the time at the moment, and why his pulse fluttered like his veins were full of butterflies whenever the other touched him. He was in love with Xiao Xingchen.

Well fuck.

***

Xue Yang paced around his hotel bedroom, feeling like a caged tiger. He wanted to destroy something. No, he really wanted a stiff drink.

Was he a masochist? What had made him fall in love with a man who knocked him around for fun? No of course that was unfair, Xiao Xingchen only ever restrained him and only when Xue Yang attacked first. Still, it must definitely be masochism.

Or Stockholm Syndrome; he had been at the mercy of the other, a virtual prisoner, for weeks now.

“I need a drink” he exclaimed aloud; and so he formulated a plan.

He took a quick shower and changed into something black and sexy and flashy, then he he called reception and asked for a taxi cab, and that they ring up to let him know when it had arrived.

He waited by his bedroom door, peeping through the tiniest opening for the phone to ring back; and as Xiao Xingchen got up from the couch to answer it he dashed out and past as silently as possible to give himself as much of a head-start as he could manage.

The doors of the elevator were closing just as he saw Xiao Xingchen enter the hallway and yell at him in rage.

He was in the taxi and away; his freedom all the sweeter for being carefully wrought.

***

Xue Yang was beginning to feel pleasantly buzzed and he was chatting quite happily with the guy who stood next to him at the bar of the VIP lounge. He’d been greeted by the usual crowd who hadn’t seen him around for the weeks he’d been kept prisoner, (OK maybe that was a little dramatic), but he’d never seen this guy before and new people were interesting.

Although he was beginning to get uncomfortable at how the other stared at him intently after he’d finished his drink.

He excused himself to “visit the bathroom” when life finally caught up with him. Life of course being Xiao Xingchen.

He pushed Xue Yang up against the wall of the corridor to the bathrooms, which was surprisingly currently empty.

“Hey” Xue Yang protested, although with alcohol relaxing his muscles it hadn’t really hurt as he hadn’t tensed for impact. Actually being pinned against the wall by the man you’d fallen in love with was quite nice. He had zero experience, bar some awkward kisses with a girl who’d known as little as him when he was younger, but apparently being manhandled was beginning to be something he enjoyed. Maybe because it was Xiao Xingchen though.

“I’d advise you to keep really quiet, I’m this close to spanking the living hell out of you” and really he’d never seen Xiao Xingchen’s deceptively delicate face so twisted in anger.

But of course alcohol impaired one’s judgement; to dangerous levels sometimes.

“Is that what you like?” he asked.

“What?” Xiao Xingchen was confused, his hand tightened on Xue Yang’s collar as if he suspected the other was planning something.

“Spanking, do you get off on it?”

“You really have no fucking self-preservation instincts do you?” Xiao Xingchen demanded and if Xue Yang hadn’t been so muddled due to the reaction of his body to the other, and the alcohol humming through his bloodstream he might have realised how much trouble he was in; he had never heard the other curse before in all their weeks together.

Instead he gave in to the urge pounding at the base of his brain, unable to control it anymore. He threw his arms around Xiao Xingchen’s neck and kissed him.

Well, it was clumsy and unskilled, but it probably still counted as a kiss.

He was pushed back against the wall unceremoniously, “What do you think you’re doing? You are my client. You are drunk. You are so out of line right now”

Of course he hadn’t really expected a different response. He somehow managed to pull himself free and stumbled back out into the VIP lounge.

Actually he seemed to be more drunk than he’d realised. He was suddenly barely able to control his body and he felt like his head was full of cotton wool. A hand touched his back, “Oh, you look terrible. Do you need to lie down? Should we get you out of here?” he was vaguely aware the voice wasn’t Xiao Xingchen’s, it belonged to the guy he’d been talking to at the bar, as he was guided towards the door but he really did need to lie down right now. He was about to nod his agreement when the supporting hand was violently removed.

“What the fuck did you give him?” that was Xiao Xingchen, although he couldn’t work out what the question meant. He felt the iron-grip of his security’s hand and he was pulled close to the other; he recognised the familiar scent of his aftershave and it set his mind at rest.

***

It had been days since the nightclub incident; and he’d managed to act completely clueless about the entire evening. In honesty there were huge swathes of Xue Yang’s memory that were completely blank, but he was cursed with vague recollection of him kissing Xiao Xingchen.

He wanted to die from embarrassment. He wanted to mope around at the rejection. He had to pretend like he was completely clueless about everything that happened though and let the other just write it off as a side effect of the Flunitrazepam the random guy at the nightclub had put in his drink.

He had been in touch with Jin Guangyao and begged the other to find him new security. He couldn’t carry on being around Xiao Xingchen all the time, feeling like he did, and scared to death he’d do something stupid to reveal his feelings in a way that couldn’t be pretended away like that stupid kiss.

He had faithfully promised he’d keep up the good behaviour Xiao Xingchen had bullied into him so long as Jin Guangyao replaced him with someone who wouldn’t cause Xue Yang such pain to have close.

His manager had promised to at least look into it.

Xue Yang didn’t realise he’d been wool-gathering in his head and managed to separate slightly from Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing until he saw a face in the crowd that made him uncomfortable.

He didn’t recognise the man but the fear that skittered down his spine was very real; he turned to try and get closer to Xiao Xingchen who called his name and dashed over; the flash he caught from the corner of his eye had him raising his arm in self-protection. He was dragged out of the way and thrown to the floor, catching nothing but a glancing blow as Xiao Xingchen took out the threat.

It was all very chaotic after that as the crowd helped keep the attacker captive until the police could arrive, and ambulance was also called as both he and Xiao Xingchen had taken knife wounds.

His was a cut to the arm that didn’t particularly bother him, it was the wound on Xiao Xingchen’s side that scared the life out of him. He used his folded jacket to keep pressure on the injury.

A-Qing fluttered around trying to get him to let someone else take over so they could do the same for his arm but he just waved her off; it was nothing.

“You really have no fucking self-preservation instincts” Xiao Xingchen told him in annoyance; luckily he seemed fully conscious at the moment.

“I know. I‘m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll be better from now on” he felt close to tears but fought them back brutally.

Xiao Xingchen nodded at what he said and looked into his eyes, “At least you’ll get your new bodyguard now, silver linings right?” he reached out with his left hand to thumb away one of the tears that Xue Yang hadn’t realised had escaped.

Fucking Jin Guangyao and his stupid big mouth.

“It’s for the best, xiao-Xue, in light of everything”

Which meant Xiao Xingchen was aware of his feelings and agreed the best way to deal with it was to move on. Well there went his dignity.

“You’re too precious for this cruel world in the limelight, anyway” Xue Yang tried to mock, his voice a little strangled.

“Which of us do you mean?” Xiao Xingchen asked and it was both an arrow to his heart and salve to his ego to hear such an opinion from the other.

He was glad when the paramedics had arrived and he was shuffled away to have his own wound dealt with so he could save some face. If the paramedic thought the tears were a reaction to the pain or shock of being attacked then good.

They were taken to a nearby hospital to be treated. Xue Yang’s cut needed a few stitches so he was ready to be sent away reasonably quickly, but he stayed in the waiting room until A-Qing came back to report Xiao Xingchen was fine, he’d be kept in for a few days as his would was deeper and nastier but he was stable and in no danger.

“Aren’t you going to visit before we go?” she asked, but he shook his head. And honestly she was smart enough that she probably knew what was going on and why he didn’t want to impose on the other. “Alright, lets get you back to the hotel. I think Jin Guangyao will be waiting, unfortunately, I can’t do anything to put him off this time”

Xue Yang sighed and accepted his fate.

One Month Later

The stage lights faded for the last time and he was finally able to slip offstage. He was lathered with sweat and completely exhausted. Xue Yang’s knife wound hadn’t been particularly deep or damaging but it was surprising how much it had knocked him down. He still tired out so much more easily than he was used to, but he hadn’t wanted to put this concert off, preferring to get it out of the way so he could take a holiday for a couple of weeks and use it to think about the next steps in his career, and indeed life, with nothing hanging over his head.

The man who had attacked them had been the same who had drugged his drink in the nightclub, although due to the effects Xue Yang couldn’t identify him; it had been lucky his subconscious had reacted to the man though, or it could have been so much worse.

He accepted the towel A-Qing held out for him as he met his entourage in the back stage passages and dried off, pulling on the coat she had also brought him.

There was an oddly smug look on her face and he questioned her.

“Nothing, just something funny is all” she refused to be drawn on what caused her to smile so.

They made it back to the dressing rooms and he was bundled inside.

He wondered, uncharitably, if she was on drugs.

“No rush, your car won’t be here for quite some time yet” A-Qing told him as she shut the door behind him and he turned to find his street clothes. Except he wasn’t alone.

Oh.

Suddenly he daren’t move from the doorway, not sure whether to tear it open and flee or move into the room and act like he wasn’t bothered in the slightest.

In the end he compromised, did nothing and stayed exactly where he was.

“Why are you here?” he tried to keep his voice steady, and luckily it didn’t shake too much.

“Why do you think?” Xiao Xingchen asked him.

#mdzs #mdzs fanfic #mdzs fic #xuexiao #xue yang #xiao xingchen #Modern AU #Bodyguard AU #Blood cw #injury cw #date-rape-drug cw #pining #one-sided feelings?

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dramaqueeenamby · 6 years ago

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Feast

A/N: Yeah. Idk how to stick with the word requirements for blurbs so here is a whole damn oneshot with Big Nasty and a black reader. Also, ya’ll know I love Amara and she’s my go-to FC, but feel free to ignore and imagine yaselves’! :p

Words: 3.4K

Warnings: Slight, like very slight, and shitty smut

Tagging the fellow Flo’s Hoes/Lil Nasties who I know share love for our manzzzz and expressed interest in this hot mess!

TAGS: @chaneajoyyy @forbeautyandlife @heyauntieeee @crushed-pink-petals @mimigemrose @thepinkjinx @honeychicana @sdcyumyum @babygirlofwakanda

FEAST

“Bitch, hurry up. I can only hold my stomach in for so long. Not all of us have abs like you.”

Your best friend and current photographer sucked her teeth. “What abs? I haven’t done a real workout in months.”

You rolled your eyes, breaking from your position to place your hands on your hips and look over at her, squinting from the intensity of the sun. “What are we about to do then?”

Maya mirrored your stance. “You know damn well we’re only going to make it about a block before we call it quits.”

You laughed. It was true. While Maya had a bit more stamina than you, neither of you were feeling like being healthy. Plus, between decorating your new condo that you’d purchased with your best friend since elementary school or getting in a negative calorie burning workout….playing interior designer sounded a lot more appealing.

“Well let;s at least get these pictures done. We look too bomb to not snap a pic or two.”

“Or 100.”

You fake sniffled. “You know me so well.”

Sharing a laugh, Maya instructed you on how to pose, snapping more than two photos before you switched positions.

“Ugh. Give me your height, please.” At 5’10 with a slim thick figure, your best friend could have easily been a model if you two hadn’t went into the clothing business, opening your own boutique.

Maya snorted. “Give me your booty.”

“It’s a trade,” you agreed as Maya gave you poses that made her look even that more angelic and bomb than she already was. “Work, bitch.” The two of you fell out laughing as she gave a little twerk before covering her face.

“Can’t take us anywhere.”

You wiped at your eyes. “Nowhere.” She came to stand beside as you two perused through the photos you’ve taken eventually settling on one for each of you to post on social media.

“Franchise is going to love that one,” Maya murmured as you guys started to walk back toward your condominium, the decision to bypass the workout an unspoken agreement made among you.

You threw your head back and groaned. “You and that damn nickname.”

“I wouldn’t have given it to him if you would bless that man with some Rosetta Stone.”

“Now see, what we not gon’ do is talk about my baby.”

“That’s the biggest ass baby I’ve ever seen.” As her eyes fell onto you, she caught the sly and suggestive smile planted on your face. “Stop that!”

“You tell no lies,” you wiggled your brows as she grimaced.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” She pretended to gag as you pulled out your phone to check the post. Sure enough, he’d been one of the first to like it.

Smiling, you swiped to see he’d left two separate comments.

😍😍😍

Mine 🤪🙌🏻❤️

You quickly double tapped both to heart them before giving a quick reply.

☺️😘❤️

Your boyfriend, Florian, was the definition of unexpected. You’d met by chance, both of you being on the same connecting flight that been delayed, forcing passengers to spend the night in the terminal. Your phone was dying, you foolishly leaving your charger in your suitcase as you hadn’t expected your battery to die before you reached your stop, Honduras.

Looking around the terminal, you noticed that there was only one available seat that was near a charging station. And it just so happened to be next to the tall, large, and handsome man who you could have sworn you’d caught staring at you several times. Never really into white guys, even you couldn’t deny the man was sexy as hell.

You’d overheard him talking on the phone and noticed he had a European accent to his deep voice, amping the appeal you were already having problems ignoring.

As your battery sunk into single digits, you decided to approach the handsome stranger, asking if it was alright for you to take the seat next to him.

“Of course.” Was his kind reply, his smile causing your stomach to do all kind of somersaults and walkovers.

While you’d initially planned to pretend to be busy on your phone, it seemed as though being in his proximity or being the first to make the move was the only thing he needed to start up a conversation.

An exchange of names and casual conversation quickly turned into you learning almost everything to know about each other. He was an actor who’d just been cast in a film he couldn’t tell because of contractual reasons and was going on a short vacation with close friends before traveling to the states to start filming.

You told him how you were heading to Honduras to celebrate your best friend’s 25th birthday. His favorite color was green. Yours was pink. He was the baby of his siblings. You were an only child. He was single….you were single.

You could definitely detect the flirtatious tone he allowed to seep in his naturally confident demeanor and surprised yourself with how you matched his vibe. Then again, how couldn’t you? The man was gorgeous and his body was delicious.

And that was just from what you could see through his sweats.

Contact information was exchanged as you two eventually separated, and what started as a long distance friendship easily transformed into something a lot more serious. He was away filming for three months, 90 days that comprised of constant phone and video communication, virtual interaction constituting the forming of your relationship.

Though you hadn’t officially discussed the status of you “-ship” as you’d gleefully ran into his open arms as you met him at the airport, making physical contact with him for the first time since you met…..you just kinda knew.

Then, of course, the fact that you two went through almost half a box of condoms the same night and you learning the real reason they called him Big Nasty probably helped as well.

So now, months later, there was no question about where you two stood. Florian was your man, and you, his lady.

Pulling down to refresh the comments, your smile dropped as you saw Maya’s reply on the thread between you and your boyfriend.

🤨 She been both fine AND mine long before you, Franchise.

Looking at her with the ‘really, bitch’ face, she busted out laughing.

“You know I had to.”

You maintained your annoyed expression before joining her in her cackling. “I hate you.”

“Lies,” she sang. “That’s like saying you hate Baby Arnold.”

“Maya!”

She was right though. Though you’d always been hesitant about falling too deeply given your less than stellar track record with men, there was something different about Florian. Being with him made you feel like a teenager all over again. Hell, you were 25 and getting all giddy over a damn Instagram comment.

You didn’t want to say that you loved him. Not yet. Not out loud, at least. But….you definitely more than just liked him.

As you two made it back to your condominium, you decided to start unpacking the boxes that created a fire hazard in your kitchen. You’d had just about enough takeout and while neither of you could cook to save your lives, it couldn’t help to start learning.

After all, you wanted to try to learn how to make at least one of your man’s favorite dishes. All you needed was a recipe, ingredients, prayers, and a fire extinguisher.

“Would you get off your phone and help me put some of these dishes away?” You yelled at your friend as she waved you off, continuing her IG live as she ate the last bit of her Chinese takeout.

“You’re doing great, sweetie!” She snorted as you turned around to flip her off.

“Hey, Siri. Play my music on Shuffle,” Maya called out to the HomePod. You rolled your eyes and prepared to tell the music player to turn it off when you realized it was “Bust Down Barbiana.”

“Ayee!” You shouted, running over to turn the music all the way up as Maya jumped up as well. Going over by her, the two of you started to dance and sing along.

“Thank you next, Ariana!” You both yelled as you two twerked on each other, all desires to stay on task thrown out the window. You continued to dance, noticing as the viewers of the Live continued to go up and up as you remembered Maya had a good amount of followers.

For a second, you contemplated moving out of the frame but as soon as the next song came on, Tia Tamera by Doja Cat, you knew it was a wrap.

“Hair grow long like Chia. Money go long like Nia!” You sang loudly, moving to climb up on the half wall, dancing on there, dropping into a squat and moving your ass. “I am the big idea! My twins big like Tia!”

“Aye! Aye!” Maya continued to hype you as she grabbed her phone to better film you. “Get it, Thickems!”

Continuing to act a fool, you didn’t notice Maya roll her eyes until she shouted.

“Go away, Franchise!”

Hearing that, you looked at her. “Flo’s watching?” As she murmured a ‘you know he is,’ you grin widened as you blew a kiss. “Hi, baby!”

“Can ya’ll not be all romantic on my live!” Maya groaned. You ignored her and continued to dance, purposely moving your ass even more. Flo loved your booty, his big hands always going to grab or smack it every chance he got.

Especially during sex. His favorite position was any that allowed him to bend you over. The counter, the bed, a workout machine, anything really.

“He said get your ass down before you fall, Bee!” Maya warned, though you were unsure if she was just saying that or if Flo really was concerned.

“If I fall and hurt myself, will you come home?” You asked, half joking, half serious. Promo for the film Florian had been filming, Creed II, was at full force, your poor boyfriend having to partake in interview after interview and premiere after premiere. A part of you felt bad for him, but you missed your man more.

It’d been almost two months since you’d seen him in person, and he wasn’t set to come visit you for another month. Your shower head and vibrator could only do so much. You needed the real and much bigger thing.

But sexual desires aside, you really just missed being held by your boyfriend, joking around with him, forcing him to watch your “chick flicks” or the occasional trip to the club.

“Ooooh.” You finally jumped down and walked over to Maya. “Call him.”

Maya turned up her nose. “Hell no. This is a rated G live. Ain’t no freak shit taking place on my watch. I’m a Christian.”

“Bitch you a whole lie and 3/4ths.” You smacked your lips as you looked over her shoulder to see comments coming in left and right but focusing in only on his.

😂😂😂😂😂

“Call me, baby!”

“It’s maybe.”

“Maya, I am about to punch you in your throat.”

“Come on then, bitch. I ain’t never been scared.”

“You are so ignorant.” You wiped at your eyes and elbowed her, walking away to get your phone out the kitchen.

“That ass though!”

Shaking your head, you looked at your reflection in the FaceTime before calling him. Ring, ring, ring, With each ring, your smile dimmed. Why was he not answering? Eventually, the “unavailable” screen came up and you frowned.

“He didn’t answer.” You told Maya as she walked over, having ended her call.

Maya shrugged. “Probably went to go beat his-“

“Maya!”

——

As you finished applying your night serums, your mind was still focused on the day’s earlier events.

You’d tried calling Florian a few more times after that with each call being ignored. You texted him. No reply. Hell, you’d even resorted to more stalkerish tendencies by checking his IG activity to see if he was liking photos or whatnot. Nothing. He’d just gone ghost.

You tried to ignore it. You really did. The last thing you wanted to think about was him cheating, messing around on you. He was probably working, but as you thought about where he was and the time zone, what work could he be doing at 3 something in the morning?

Something just wasn’t right.

Of course, Maya called you stupid.

“Terminator knows I’ll kick his Russian ass if he breaks your heart.”

“He’s Romanian, Maya.”

“I don’t care if he’s Lettucian. He still gon catch this fade if he wanna be on some Tristian Hoempson shit and cheat on you.”

You chuckled. Your best friend was crazy, but you loved her.

Just like you love Flo-

“Oh hell no.”

Frowning, you walked to the bedroom door. “What’s up?”

“Ain’t this about a bitch.”

Sighing, you walked over to slide on your slippers and headed out your room. “Heifer, you better be dying.”

“Oh, someone is about to die.”

You rolled your eyes and walked over to the top of the steps. “What-“

Mouth ajar, eyes wide as saucers, you completely blocked out Maya’s smirking, charcoal mask covered as she crossed her arms over chest, and murmured a small “gotcha.”

No, your eyes were focused on the giant standing at the bottom of your steps, bag on one shoulder, suitcase on the floor next to him, his magnetic smile on his handsome face.

“Surprise.”

As though his voice was your ‘on’ switch, you broke from your trance. “Baby!” Descending down the steps with surprising speed, you threw your body into his, legs wrapping around his waist.

“Now what if you had fallen? Hmm? Who was going to pay that hospital bill?” Maya wondered aloud as you flipped her off while crashing your lips onto Florian, his hands going to palm your ass as he held you against him.

“Hey, hey, hey! All possible baby making activities need to take place in the bedroom as per section G, paragraph 2, lines 8 through 11 of the contract.”

“What are you doing here?” You asked after having to break away for air, completely ignoring your best friend. “I thought you couldn’t get away for another month.”

“I’m done in a month, but everyone needs a break, yeah?” His finger traced your lips as you went to drop your legs so that you could stand up, only for him to tighten his grip. “You missed me, hmm?”

“You know what I’m going to miss? The silence!” Maya groaned. “Where are my Beats because if you think I’m going to listen to “fuck me daddy” and “don’t stop” all night-“

Florian chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, dropping your head on his chest. “It’s nice to see you too, Maya.”

“Don’t lie to her,” you mumbled into him as he turned to look at you, pecking your forehead, forcing a giggle as you clutched him tighter.

Maya gagged. “I’m leaving. Don’t beat it up too much. Tomorrow is the Lord’s day.”

“Hate you, mean it.” You groaned as she walked up the steps, finally leaving you two alone.

Hitting him on his shoulder, he looked over at you with a scowl. “Wh-“

“You had me worried sick about you.” You finally remembered the stress he’d unknowingly forced you to endure as the result of his surprise.

“I’m sorry.” You noticed the guilt in his eyes and voice and felt a bit bad about making him feel bad. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“I don’t like surprises,” you pouted as he finally let you down so that he could slide the bag off his shoulder, hands going to your hips. “I like being able to talk to my man.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna talk,” he hummed, head dropping down as he lightly nipped at your neck. “Maybe I want to touch…to taste.”

You released a mixture of a moan and groan, legs involuntary clenching together.

“You should be tired.” You tried to be considerate. As much as you wanted him, you thought about how he’d most likely been in the midst of traveling while engaging with you on Instagram. He’d been in airports and on planes for the most of the day. “At least, take a shower. Settle down.” Your fingers crawled up his chest. “Just for a bit.”

He sighed with irritation as you giggled. Standing up on your toes, you kissed his nose. “Go on. The sooner you get done, the sooner we can get started.”

——

Pouring the crystal light into the glass, you closed up the container and placed it back in the fridge. As soon as you turned around, you were ambushed with a passionate kiss, Florian grabbing you by the back on your legs and hoisting you up against his shirtless frame.

Hands holding onto his broad shoulders, you nipped on his bottom lip.

“I guess I don’t need to ask if you missed me, huh?” You teased as he sat you down on the counter so that you could grab your drink.

He chuckled and looked down, hands moving up and down your bare thighs. “I always miss you, Bee.”

Grinning bashfully, young nails lightly raked across his back as he netted his head into your neck. “Needy.”

“Very,” he absentmindedly replied, hands moving higher up your legs and under the big shirt you were sporting.

“Flo,” you whined, taking a sip of your drink as his fingers toyed with the waistband of your panties. “At least let me fix you something to eat.”

“I don’t want that.” He groaned, lifting and relocating you to the island. “And you can’t cook.”

“You know what,” You gasped and slapped his arm. “I-“ Your eyes fluttered as pushed him hands up your body, kneading your breast with one hand while using the other to carefully push you down on your back. “Not here.”

“Why not,” he murmured, kissing the inside of your thighs as he started to tug on your underwear. “Kitchen made for eating, hmm.”

You whimpered as his finger stroked your folds, a low groan leaving his mouth. You were already so wet for him. “You said you missed daddy, ehh?”

Nodding rapidly, you threw your head back and just as you felt his cool breath on your pussy, it fell out in breathy voice.

“Mmmm, I love you.”

Both of you froze. Your eyes stretched as you started to wonder just how you were going to get away from him, put as much distance between you two as possible.

Unfortunately, with the position he had you in, it was almost physically impossible for you to dash so you forced yourself to attempt to do damage control.

“I-uh-what I meant is-you know-uh-,” you stammered, finally gaining the courage to him to see that he was smiling at you. Like, genuinely fucking smiling. You wanted to smack him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you snapped, turning your head when you felt his hand come to cup your cheek, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“You love me?” He questioned casually, like it wasn’t something you’d been trying to keep a secret for weeks, still unsure if it was, in fact, love or just lust. Maybe that’s what it was. Lust. Yeah. It’d been too long and you were speaking from your pussy. Not the heart.

That was your story and you were-

“I love you too.”

Silence.

The silence that fell over you two was so thick that you could literally hear the sound of your gulp.

“W-wh-at you just say?”

He couldn’t have said what you thought he said. No. Your-your ears were playing tricks on you.

His gaze darkened as he gazed his lips over yours. “You heard me, frumos.” Beautiful. “You want me to say again?” He questioned, giving you no time to process let alone reply as he brought his head back down your body. “Or show.”

You moaned and released a shaky breath. “Baby-“

“Shhh,” he tugged your thighs over his shoulders, pulling you right into him. “Daddy needs to eat.”

And as your man finally indulged on the dessert he’d been waiting for all day and your mewling fueled his hunger, you realized that while your punani certainly loved the man feasting on you like you were his last supper…..so did your heart.

Huh.

“Ugh. I’m starv-ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW!” A Beat. “YA’LL ARE GOING TO JAIL, PERIODT!”

#florian munteanu #florian munteanu x reader #florian monteanu x black reader #big nasty #big nasty fanfic

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collective-laugh · 5 years ago

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B Movie - Main 6 + MC Headcanons

So I just watched the first episode of AHS: 1984 with my Mom so I wanted to write headcanons of the main cast in a shitty B movie scenario

Also, everyone is, like, college-aged in this, so age gaps won't be fucking with my vision

Julian is the one who finds out about Camp Vesuvia, and his sister, Portia, is the first one he conscripts to be a counselor with him

She says it's a terrible idea, and it is, but it's 1984, and money is scarce, and she decides that it might not be a terrible way to spend her summer

She hits up her friend, MC, and pitches it as this great getaway for, in her words, "booze, babes, and money." Portia convinces them to try and snag a couple other people, if they can

They're fairly easily convinced, and they manage to snag their best friend, Asra, and a nature loving bud of theirs, Muriel

Portia invites Nadia, and from there, they pile into Julian's standard 80s van, filled to the brim with pot, and they're off to Camp Vesuvia

Lucio, comic relief as ever, is already there when they arrive, in booty shorts and a cutoff counselor shirt (think Johnny Depp from Nightmare on Elm Street)

For plot, he and Nadia went/go to the same university and are former partners, he's not-so-silently pining while she's over it

They learn from Lucio that the guy who owns the place, some guy called Valerius, is in the town not too far from camp getting some last minute supplies, so he takes them on the "grand tour"

The kids aren't due for another three days, so it'll mostly be setup - and sex, mostly

So, the MC has the choice to do as such with one of the Main 6, up to them, and that's when the first weird thing happens

They hear a truck, and footsteps, and the MC isn't happy with it, and they stop doing the diddly do, and the LI calls out, miraculously not having heard anything

They rejoin the group, regardless, and MC only feels worse when Lucio starts telling the story of the camp

"A couple of kids, five in total, were in the lake, chilling, when suddenly, one of them snapped, killing the rest. The kid was brought in, and no one knows what really happened to them...or the bodies."

Nadia rolls her eyes and tells him to stop trying to scare everyone, but looking at the lake, with Lucio insisting it's real...

It's a little much

MC sneaks off to the showers with their lover, and we're given the first shot of the killer here, but no one dies (MC is not virgin final person)

Back in the girls' cabin, everyone has gathered to drink and smoke, in spite of the "no purpling" rule

Portia asks about the owner, when they'll meet him, and Lucio tells her about how weird he was, for the plot

Julian makes a joke, that class clown boi, and tries to scare everyone. It doesn't really work, but everyone's already kind of on edge. Woods are scary, especially at night

Muriel is quiet, sticking close to MC and Asra, not too keen on meeting others. Nadia is tired, saying she has a headache and lies down. Portia is smoking and drinking, trying not to think about outside, and Julian is living in the aftershocks of his dumb joke. He might apologize, but it's the 80s and guys don't apologize in movies. Lucio is loud and laughing and so frightened inside, and Asra is just trying to have a good time.

MC won't stop looking at the door, anxiety gnawing at them, and Nadia, from the bed, sees out the window, and asks about the strange little shack on the water's edge

Lucio says it's Valerius' cabin, that they weren't allowed in there, and Julian immediately suggests going in there. Portia and Asra and Lucio agree while Nadia and Muriel think it's a bad idea.

It is a bad idea and MC manages to convince them not to go

As soon as they fall asleep, though, Portia and Asra are sneaking out to go check it out, because when are they going to have another chance to do this?

First death is off screen. It's Portia. Asra screams and we see him running from the killer. Portia's body falls into the frame and the killer chases Asra down.

Julian, half drunk, half asleep, has just left the dude cabin, looking for Portia. He hears Asra yelling and kind of sees him running, and then he doesn't hear him anymore

He thinks it's strange, and goes to investigate.

Julian books it as soon as he finds Asra's body, right into the boys cabin, where he finds Lucio and Muriel, the latter of which was already awake

Freaking out, he wakes Lucio up, crying and sputtering already, so they can freak out together, before Muriel tells him he's dumb and that this is dumb

Julian barricades the door, and the killer breaks a window before the screen cuts to Nadia

Nadia, with a headache, wakes up in her room, thinking the screams were part of her nightmare. She is surprised no one else is in her cabin, and makes her way to the bathrooms

She hears yelling from the cabin and rolls her eyes, thinking they were being stupid and partying or something

Standard bathroom shot death hear, she washes her face, killer comes in, she locks herself in bathroom, then dies

MC has been in the Rec Center, unable to sleep, for most of the night, sort of chilling

Here they find the newspaper article from years ago, and whoopdy doo, it's got mysterious Valerius' name in it

They mildly freak out, and the killer is shown in the window, but only for a moment

They make to head back to their cabin, but stop part of the way, staring at the water

They swear they see something

But they really hear screams coming from the guy cabin, so they book it , throwing the door open and finding Julian dead and the back door thrown wide open

They scream, covering their mouth and turning to go the way they came

Instead, they're knocked over the head and everything goes black

They wake up, head aching, staring into the dead green eyes of Muriel's body, and they hyperventilate into the gag in their mouth

All their friends lie dead beside them, all five of the people they came here with

They're grabbed by the back of their neck, crying and hyperventilating, and the killer mutters in their ear, "Jesus, shut up already."

They sniffle and furrow their brow, and the killer stands before them, tilting their head to the side

"I couldn't finish what I started that day, you know." They smile, inhuman and angry, "Then my old friend decided to reopen this place and..."

So, long story short, saving you a monologue, Valdemar and their three little friends were trying to sacrifice Valerius to the Devil as kids, they're kind of obsessed with death now, so they killed MC's friends and are about to use Lucio to summon the devil. We also get a shot of Valerius, dead out in his jeep. We also get to see the three followers, Vlastomil, Volta, and Vulgora because they were involved in the newspaper

Again, long story short, Valdemar tries to succeed, they kill MC, and Lucio is very nearly killed as well, but he's our final person! Yay!

B Movie Directors and Creators, I am available for screenwriting, hmu

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brittle-bone-gabe · 5 years ago

Text

Losers Holiday

Summary: Richie and Eddie decided to invite the Losers over to their new house for their own holiday. Pairing: Eddie x Richie (Reddie), Beverly x Ben (Benverly), Stan x Patty Read on Ao3: Here

The winter holiday months had always felt... off... for the Losers. Well, not when they were younger, when the holidays had a magical feel to it, Santa, close family, presents and all that. There must be a time in everyone’s lives where the holidays just don’t feel the same, not like they used to, especially when you had to work, to pay bills, take care of yourself and family didn’t really feel like family anymore. Growing up sucked. That much was clear.

When they were kids, the Losers would always celebrate their own holiday in December. It wasn’t exactly Christmas, mainly out of respect for Stan, even though he told them over and over that he didn’t care. Instead, they called it the Losers Holiday. It was fun, they’d drink cheap alcohol from whoever could sneak it from their parents’ stash, some of them would smoke cigarettes, and as they got older they would bring pot, and they would bring each other presents. Growing up and eventually apart, the Losers never felt the same joy during the holidays as they did with their Losers Holiday.

Especially Richie, once he moved out of Derry after he graduated high school he hasn’t celebrated any holiday ever. Not Thanksgiving, not Christmas, he would get black out drunk on New Years, but that was about it. He felt bad about leaving Derry without saying goodbye to the remaining Losers, but he needed to do it for his sanity. He had a great home life, he and his mother had struggled seeing eye-to-eye at most times, but loved and cared about each other... well... until Richie came out to them. His dad was happy for him, saying that he should do whatever makes him happy, but his mom was silent. She didn’t say much, but certainly treated him slightly different afterwards. Eventually Richie couldn’t take it anymore and left, with little money he saved up from working, only the clothes on his back hoping he would make it somewhere.

Beverly didn’t celebrate Christmas anyways while she was living with her dad in Derry, in fact, she never did until she moved in with her aunt in Seattle, Washington. Still, the amount of positive family around her and the presents didn’t compare to the holiday memories that had slowly started to fade from the move. She could never put her finger on why it didn’t feel right, now until going back to Derry to meet back up with the Losers Club. All the memories had flooded back, everything made sense. She knew there was a reason she always bought cheap alcohol during Christmas time, it wasn’t good, but it brought back memories that she couldn’t exactly pull from the back of her mind.

Mike, living on his grandfather’s farm and not having a mom and dad to celebrate Christmas holidays always kinda bummed him out. Yeah, his grandfather tried his best, but they didn’t have much back then, all the money they had went into bills and farm related purchases. Mike always told himself that he didn’t need a Christmas like he saw on the holiday TV movies, he had a roof over his head, food, a place to sleep, and the best friends a person could ask for. So when the Losers started their Losers Holiday he was awkward with giving out the gifts he picked out, not sure if he wrapped them right, if they were good enough, etc. The smile he had plastered on his face when everyone expressed how much they loved their gifts was something Bev wished she could’ve taken a picture of and frame it, she swore she never seen him so happy before. Living in the library all these years waiting for It to come back didn’t help, he had nobody to celebrate it with in general and it lowkey made him depressed.

Ben got spoiled for the most part of Christmas. The kinda kid who believed in Santa until he was almost thirteen, his parents wasn’t going to ruin his holiday fun. The Losers’ face when Ben said ‘Santa’s coming in a few days.’ Everyone was silent until Richie broke out in laughter, telling Ben that was a good joke, but when Ben gave him a confused look his laughter had died down and for the first time in his life he shrunk, not wanting to be the one to tell him the news. Nobody really wanted to poke at that, but Bev was the one who broke the news, saying it was just his parents putting presents under the tree. Then why would the label say it’s from ‘Santa’? That’s when it hit him that it was in his mom’s handwriting. Whoops.

Eddie did not like Christmas. Mainly because whenever he went out of town to meet up with family every Christmas Eve someone in his family was sick, and he would return home sick. Like, actually sick with a cold. His mom would keep him in bed for an extra week from school so he could get well again, even when Eddie kept saying he felt fine enough to go back, she just wouldn’t allow it. His mom would always say things like ‘I couldn’t get you much this year because I had to buy you all this medicine for your illnesses.’ So yeah, Eddie was drilled into feeling guilty during Christmas and it fucking sucked. Oh, yeah, not to mention that going out this time of year was gross; the stores were always more busy than usual, more people bumping into you and spreading their germs. Disgusting.

Stan couldn’t care less about Hanukkah, to be completely honest. Yeah, his dad was a Rabbi and was always stern with him about his studies, but Stan just. Did. Not. Care. He never really felt like dealing with it, but when the Losers made their own holiday he finally felt like he was involved with something. He enjoyed drinking and giving presents to his best friends, he liked showing that he cared about them when he felt like he hasn’t in the past.

Christmas was never the same to Bill since Georgie died; he would always remember how excited his younger brother would get that Santa was going to come to their house and bring them presents. Something about a child getting excited over Christmas always made Bill smile and play along to whatever they were talking about. Bill noticed that Christmas slowly started fading away in his house as a kid, his parents moped around in December, eventually they even stopped putting up a Christmas tree. Which was understandable, but it still made Bill sad that they still couldn’t hold onto one more thing. Oh well, the Losers Holiday instantly replaced it, and he got just as excited as Georgie did when Christmas rolled around.

Now December was rolling around again and since the Losers were finally reunited after all these years they were excited to do their little holiday again. It was actually Eddie who brought it up, asking the other Losers if they wanted to do it as his and Richie’s new house that they recently bought. Everyone was excited to come up to Chicago to see the house and celebrate. Yeah, it’s only been a few months since they met up in Derry for the first time in years, and yeah, they texted in their group chat all the time, but they would rather see each other in person. This was going to be exciting.

-----

“Will you please get off your lazy ass and help me clean?” Eddie asked Richie, who had his feet kicked up on the coffee table in the living room as he was drinking a beer on the couch while watching some shitty Hallmark Christmas movie.

“Eds! I can’t!” Richie said, acting as though Eddie should’ve known that.

“Why the fuck not?”

He gestured towards the TV, and Eddie had no idea what he was supposed to be looking at, so he folded his arms across his chest, raising an eyebrow. From what Eddie could tell it was almost the end of the back to back to back to back Christmas movies. Who knows? They were all the goddamn same.

“It’s almost the last minute, Eddie!”

“The las- what?”

“The last minute. These boring ass cookie cutout couples don’t kiss until the last minute of the movie.” He checked his watch, not thinking about the beer can he was holding in the same hand, almost spilling it on his shirt. “Annnd....” He held up a closed hand, still watching the seconds on his watch before snapping his fingers and pointing at the TV. “Now.” Exactly as if on cue, the couple on the TV finally had their first kiss. “Awww,” Richie said sarcastically, “why can’t we have that, Eds?”

“Because I’m not a woman who works too much on Christmas and you’re not the man whose gonna change my ways at the last second,” he said, grabbing the remote and turned off the TV, “get up.”

“So oddly specific, I love it,” he said, standing up from the couch, stretching as he did. “I can put on a blonde wig.”

“Oh god...”

“Get an office job, work my way up,” he moved over to Eddie, wrapping his arms around his waist, pulling him closer so he had to look down at him, “become an important business woman. You swoop in and change my ways. Romantic.”

“I said I was the woman. Not you, Trashmouth.”

“You’re right.” Richie reached up, rubbing the sides of his face with one hand, “this scruffy bastard isn’t pretty enough. But...”he booped Eddie’s nose, causing his face to scrunch up, “you are.”

“Th...” Eddie had to take a second to process anything Richie just said, “thanks, Richie.”

“Oh, you are so welcome!” He leaned down, pressing his lips against Eddie’s. “Have Bev do my makeup,” he said against his lips.

“Okay that’s enough,” he said, pushing Richie away playfully. “Beep beep, Richie.”

“Beep beep, Richie,” he mocked, rolling his eyes with a smile on his face. “But, what is there to clean? You’ve been cleaning and deep cleaning since you invited everyone over. I think it’ll hold up through tomorrow. Oh!” Richie said, switching back to his stupid joke, “Bev can make me a custom made dress!”

Eddie rolled his eyes. It was clear Richie was getting excited, he was talking so fucking much. Times like this really showed Richie’s ADHD, he would talk a mile a minute and keep switching subjects back and forth and expect everyone to keep up. He wasn’t medicated with Adderall, he said he didn’t like the way it made him feel. Apparently the first time he took Adderall was at a college party, while everyone was taking it to get high, it did the opposite for Richie, in fact he went home to clean his entire dorm and do some homework instead. Why would I want to be productive, Eds? Was what Eddie recalled him saying when he had suggested him going to the doctor for his ADHD.

“They won’t care what the house looks like,” Richie continued, swapping the subject again, following Eddie into the kitchen, “I mean, it’s spotless, babe. It’s not like they’ll gonna check for tiny specks of dust.”

“I know they won’t.” He opened the cabinet under the sink, looking for... something. Cleaning supplies most likely. “But Patty is coming with Stan so...”

“Son of a bitch,” Richie said happily, “we finally get to meet the great Patty.”

Eddie pointed at him with the duster, causing Richie to put his hands up shoulder height as if he was pointing a gun at him. “You will behave.”

“When don’t I?!”

“Richard.” Richie clicked his tongue, giving Eddie a wink, Eddie let out a sigh. “Please?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Eddie kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” He shoved the duster into Richie’s hands so now he couldn’t refuse to help. “Get cleaning.”

“Aw hell yeah,” Richie said before he began shaking the duster. Either just because he was bored or to piss Eddie off, the smaller man couldn’t tell, but he was sending dust everywhere. All the work Eddie put in the past week was quickly being destroyed unintentionally.

“Richie!” He snapped, snatching the duster away from him, his eyes were wide in surprise and confusion. “You’re not helping! Just…” Eddie let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I dunno…. go…. um…” When he looked up at Richie he had a smile on his face, ready to do whatever task was given to him. Goddammit he was too cute for this world. Eddie snapped his fingers. “I know. It’s a job even you can handle.”

“Ouch.”

“No, shut up, you’ll like it. Go to the store and get the cheapest alcohol you can find.”

“Cheap?!” Richie put a hand on his chest as if he was wounded by Eddie’s words, “Richie Trashmouth doesn’t buy cheap! Only the best for my pack of Losers!”

“We used to only drink cheap alcohol for our holiday.”

“We used to steal it too. Oh.” Richie smiled. “Is it for the aesthetic?” Richie knew that was a meme, Eddie didn’t. That’s what made his expression even more hilarious. “You want me to rob the liquor store?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I can see it now!” He wrapped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, bringing him to his side, using his other arm to wave it across them as if they were standing in lights. “‘Richie Tozier under fire for robbing a liquor store of their cheapest alcohol. More at five.’ Ah? Would you like to see that? I’d like to see that. Aesthetic.”

“Just…” Eddie had to stop as he let out a laugh from his stupid jokes. He put a hand on his face, looking at his boyfriend lovingly. “Jesus fucking Christ. Just go, Richie.”

“Once I get my ski mask from the closet it’s over for those bitches at the liquor store.” Eddie was startled when Richie pulled him in close, planting a quick kiss on his lips before getting ready to face the harsh winter that was the outdoors.

-----

It was hard for Richie and Eddie to sleep, no matter what they did they just could not sleep for the life of them. Eddie was panicking about the shape of the house, did he do this? Did he do that? All of these constant self doubt questions were swarming in his head in the middle of the night, rendering his ability to sleep. Richie, on the other hand, was too excited to sleep. He couldn’t wait to see the Losers again after all these months. Yeah, texting them was great but tomorrow would be even better.

Throughout the night they were blaming each other on their inability to sleep. You keep tossing and turning. Yeah, well you keep mumbling shit in your sleep. Eddie has gotten fed up with Richie fidgeting, tapping his fingers and bouncing his leg in bed, so eventually he climbed onto the taller man and laying on him for the rest of the night so he would stop. Richie didn’t know that. Richie thought Eddie just wanted to cuddle, so he held him close and that’s when they eventually fell asleep.

A night of tossing and turning and a deep sleep never mixed too well. In fact, Richie and Eddie overslept well into the afternoon the next day. Y’know, when the Losers were supposed to show up to start their holiday. The two idiots didn’t even hear their many, many, many set alarms that they needed to even wake up in the morning. Yikes.

Richie mumbled something under his breath when his cell phone started vibrating next to his head on the mattress. He wasn’t ready to wake up, he was still tired and needed just five more minutes. He tried rolling over to get away from the noise, but Eddie was still laying on him so he couldn’t move at all. Eventually Richie opened on eye, looking over at the red LEDs of their digital alarm clock. Without his glasses he couldn’t even try to make out what it said.

“Okay, okay…” he said under his breath as he reached for his phone. He had to squint hard to be able to make out the time on the phone through his already blurry vision and his tired eyes. 12:44. Wait, was that right? Richie bolted upward, almost knocking Eddie off the bed. “Eddie!” He almost yelled, shaking his boyfriend a little to wake him up. “We’re late!” Eddie mumbled something, his eyes still closed as he waved a hand to Richie as if to signal ‘five more minutes.’ “Eddie!”

“Why are you always so loud,” Eddie said, clamping his hands over his ears, rolling over onto the empty mattress space next to him.

“It’s-”

“Shush!” Eddie said, attempting to put a hand over Richie’s face to shut him up, but couldn’t quite reach. Richie grabbed his wrist as he put on his glasses. “I don’t want to hear a word from you until the alarm clock goes off.”

“That’s wh-”

Richie was interrupted again when the doorbell rang, followed by some pounding from someones fist. “They’re here!” He announced happily. Eddie’s eyes shot open, looking at the digital clock on his nightstand.

Oh fuck they overslept.

“Oh shit, I’m not even dressed yet!” Eddie whined, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress. “I’ll just text them-”

“Too late!” Richie yelled as he ran out of bed in only a t-shirt and boxers with a huge smile on his face.

Eddie let out a groan of frustration as he smacked his forehead. Well, okay, fine, as long as it’ll give Eddie time to get dressed and ready.

Richie unlocked the door, swinging it open, leaning against the door frame with the same huge smile plastered onto his face. “Losers!” He said loudly and happily when he saw the five adults standing outside in the cold. Richie shivered from the gust of winter air that entered their house.

“For f-f-fucks sake, R-Richie,” he could hear Bill groan.

“I was just so excited to see all of you,” he gestured to himself, “forgot to put clothes on.” Bill pushed past him, entering the house as he hated the cold and didn’t want to stand outside any longer. “Oh, yeah! Come in.” He moved aside more, holding the door open so they could come in. “And who-” he stopped, remembering that he and Eddie were meeting Stan’s wife for the first time ever. “Ah, shit. This is not the first impression I wanted,” he told the blonde haired woman holding onto Stan’s hand. “Oh God, Eddie’s gotta save this,” he mumbled, “Hi! I’m Richie Tozier,” he reached over, shaking Patty’s hand, “so glad Stan the Man found someone. I thought he’d be alone forever.”

Patty laughed, but Stan wasn’t having it. “Nice to meet you, Richie. Stan’s... said a lot of great things.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, fuck you, dude,” Stan said, holding up a middle finger, causing Richie to laugh.

“Yeah, fuck you too. I am a delight.”

“Richiiee, the house is beautiful,” Beverly said, moving over to pull him into a hug, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“You think so?” He wrapped an arm around her, “apparently three people were killed here. Eddie didn’t want to go for it, but... the house has history. Nice wholesome family home. You guys want kids?” He nodded towards Patty and Stan.

“Richie,” Bev said, lightly smacking his side.

“What?!”

“Oh, God, where’s Eddie? We need you to shut up,” Ben said, glancing around.

“We’ve been trying,” Patty said with a smile, pressing up against Stan’s side so he wrapped an arm around her, bringing her in closer.

Everyone could tell just the look on Richie’s face he was going to make a stupid, awful joke. So there was a collection of “Beep beep, Richie”’s from everyone.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You were going to,” Mike said, taking a seat on their couch, “Eddie!” He called out, “come get your man!”

There was a small bumping around coming from their bedroom before Eddie came out fully dressed, a stern look on his face at whatever it was Richie could’ve said.

“Richard,” Eddie said in between clenched teeth, a wave of ooooh’s filled the room, “what did you do?!” He stomped into the room, but once he saw Patty his entire mood change. “Oh, hi,” he said to her, “I’m Eddie,” he held out his hand, shaking hers in return.

“I’m Patty, it’s really nice to meet you.”

“I’m sorry you already met Richie.”

She giggled. “No! It’s okay, he’s sweet. In his… own loud way.”

“Wooow,” Richie said, folding his arms over his chest, “rude. I love her.”

“Eddie, the house is beautiful,” Bev said, moving away from Richie to give him a hug.

“Y-yeah, h-h-how l-long did it t-take to clean?” Bill asked.

“Probably like twenty years,” Ben added playfully.

“Twenty- like…” Eddie was trying to think back when he actually started cleaning up, with Richie making a constant mess it kept setting him back, “I dunno, a week.” His eyes moved back over to Richie who was still in his boxers. “Jesus Christ, dude. Go put on some clothes.”

“Awww, don’t be jealous, Ed’s. I’m still taken only for you,” he said with a wink, causing Eddie’s face to turn pink before moving back to go put something on.

“Something nice!” Eddie yelled over his shoulder. “We overslept,” he told the Losers before plopping down next to Mike on the couch.

“That’s what you get for overworking yourself,” Stan added.

“I don’t overwork myself.”

“Eddie, honey, you do,” Bev added, linking hands with Ben, “everything looks great I promise.”

“You know what else looks great?!” The Losers could hear Richie yell from his bedroom, “anyone who isn’t Eddie come in here and tell me what you think!”

“I am not going to look,” Stan announced, folding his arms.

“Oh, I am!” Patty said happily, dropping his hand to catch up with Beverly who was accompanied by Ben and Bill

Mike didn’t want to know either. He had a long drive and didn’t want to stand up yet, he was too tired and just had a feeling he was going to shake Richie for whatever stupid prank he had planned.

“Sorry we overslept,” Eddie apologized, seriously feeling bad about it.

“It’s okay, Eddie,” Mike said, patting the smaller mans back, “we’re all here and that’s what matters.”

“For the first time in years it actually feels like a holiday,” Stan added as he took a seat on a fold out chair, “we were glad you invited us over. Patty wouldn’t stop talking about it since.” He smiled as he thought of how excited Patty became when Stan asked her if she wanted to meet up with his childhood friends for their own holiday. It was priceless.

“Richie!”

“Do not wear that around Eddie.”

“H-he’s gonna k-kill you, dude.”

Eddie groaned when he heard Ben laughing hysterically, sitting back on the couch pinching the bridge of his nose. He should’ve guessed that Richie had something planned for today. The moment Richie steps back into the living room Eddie had the feeling he was going to beat him up as soon as everybody left. This was the guy Eddie wanted to marry? Unbelievable.

The four Losers came back out without Richie, their faces red from laughing so hard trying to contain themselves when they saw Eddie’s face.

“It looks great!” Patty said, giving Eddie two thumbs up as she sat down next to Stan.

“We gotta c-call the funeral home once Eddie sees him.”

“How bad is it?” Eddie asked them, moving his hand from his face.

“It’s goo-... it’s….” Bev stopped, trying to think of the right words to say, “it’s festive,” she settled on.

Ben couldn't say anything as he was having issues trying to contain his laughter and eventually had to cover his mouth.

Would it be too soon for Eddie to start drinking the cheap alcohol that they picked up? Either way, he was going to be the first one to drink tonight.

“Just…” Eddie out a sigh, “let’s see it, Richie!” He called backed to his room.

Eddie could hear the sound of Richie’s socked feet and slight jingles as he was making his way into the living room. He had to close his eyes, he wasn’t sure what to expect, even thinking the worst case never prepares Eddie for whatever jokes Richie had in store.

Somewhere along the way Richie had put on a headband that had little antlers on the top that provided the source of the jingling. The moment he stepped into the living room Ben lost it again, basically crying as he laughed.

“Goddammit, Trashmouth. What the fuck is that?” Stan demanded before letting out his own laugh.

“Eddie. Eddie. Look at me. I bought this because of you and I want you to look.”

“Don’t look, Eddie,” Mike said in between his own laughter.

The smaller man let out a deep sigh before moving his hand away from his eyes. What he saw standing in the living room made him want to deck Richie as hard as he could. With that trademark goofy smile he was wearing an ugly holiday sweater with an elf plush at the bottom with the words When I Think About You I Want To Touch My Elf.

“Whatdoya think?” Richie asked, his hands out by his sides waiting for an answer.

“I hate you. I hate everything about you. You are sleeping on the goddamn couch forever. I cannot stand you,” Eddie said slowly, his face turning red. Why was Richie like this?

“Aww, he likes it!”

“I do not like it! The second you take it off I am burning it.”

“Oh, in that case I will never be taking it off. Mike! What do you think?”

“Eddie can we put him outside for awhile?” Mike asked, completely ignoring Richie.

Everyone was agreeing with Mike on that one.

“No! Trashmouths don’t like the cold. We thrive in warmth. Like in an uptight risk analysis’ warmth.” He plopped on Eddie’s lap, wrapping his arms around his neck so Eddie couldn’t just shove him to the floor.

“Where’s the alcohol?” Eddie asked as he tried to stand up, a loud dramatic whine came from Richie as he did as if to say pay attention to me.

“Why can’t we be like that?” Patty asked Stan.

Stan’s face was actually priceless. If he ended up getting married to anyone like Richie he would rather die. He was quiet and reserved and Richie… Richie was the opposite of that.

“I th-think if a-anyone had to be with Richie they would th-throw themselves off a c-c-cliff,” Bill added with a smirk on his face. “S-s-seriously Eddie, how do you d-d-deal with it?”

“Lots of alcohol.”

“Please. You drink once or twice a month and get drunk with one drink. You love me!” Richie planted a kiss on his cheek.

“They were made for each other!” Bev added, playing with Ben’s fingers.

“Yeah, they’re both annoying,” Ben added.

“We’re not annoying!” Richie and Eddie said at the same time.

Richie scoffed, “None of you will be getting presents then.”

“No wait.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Shut up.”

The evening was nice. The Losers spent almost an hour opening their gifts, they were all super nice and thoughtful. Richie went on a long rant after opening up his present from Stan as he had gotten him a kids joke book with a card that read: Use these, they are probably better than your jokes (: he joked that he was going to use these up on stage then thank Stan personally for giving him new material. Everyone could tell before looking at the name tag on the gifts which ones were from Eddie, as his wrapping skills were seriously unmatched. Then you had Richie’s who looked like a kid was trying to hurry up and get through the wrapping process.

It was nice catching up with everyone again face to face rather than texting or the occasional phone call. They all went out to get pizza before finishing up the night with cheap alcohol. Eddie had tried to convince Richie to change his shirt before leaving the house, but the comedian was having none of it, saying something about how the world needed to see his Sunday Best outfit. Of course, while they were out Bev and Patty took plenty of pictures and selfies with the other Losers (even if it was against their will), just to remind them that there were more Loser Holidays coming up in their future. To Eddie’s horror there were fans of Richie who asked to take a picture of him wearing that god awful ugly sweater that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on and burn.

Overall it was a great night with great food and so-so alcohol. Nobody really got drunk except for Eddie, who anyways, was always considered a lightweight. Everyone was trying to convince him that he loved Richie’s sweater, but drunk Eddie still wasn’t having any of it, saying if he had to he would burn Richie alive along with the shirt.

This was the holiday spirit that they all remembered and missed dearly. The staying up late telling stories about their childhoods, laughing and spilling alcohol everywhere on accident, hell, just for the fun of it, the eight of them played truth-or-dare like they would used to. Of course, Richie would make anyone who picked dare lives miserable. There was a reason none of them cared for the overhyped and oversold holidays, because this was the best one. The one where you’re surrounded by friends you’d consider family over your own family having an amazing time. That was the best type of holiday.

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